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estjecllully dedicated ij my Comrade George E. Road, Post 53, Depl. Penn'a, C. A. R.. Harrisburj 
for his Valuable War r.ellc, "The Campaign orihe Sixth Army Corps, ' 
thereby assisting me to compile this work. 



Valuable as a Curiosity of the Rcbcllio 



UOMPILEU AND SOLD I 

CHAS. L. CUMMINGS. 



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tespectlully dKdicatMii tj my coinraiie Georgo E. Itoe;!, Post 5o, Oept. Ponn'a, Ct. A. R., H.irrisbtiri 
Tor his Valuable War P.elic, "The Car.ipaign oTlhe Sixth Army Corps," 
thereby assisting me to compile this work. 



Valuable as a Curiosity of the Rcbcllio 



COMPILED AND SOLD LY 

lHAS. L. CUMMINub. 



^ 



If you read this others would read 
your advertisement. It pays to adver- 
tise a good thing. The spaces on this 
page are for sale for advertising legit- 
imate business. For terms apply to 
CHAS. L. CUMMINGS, 
620 Delaware Avenue, 

Harrisburg, Pa. 




CHAS. L. CUMMINGS. 



A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE, SERVICE IN THE ARMY, AND 

HOW HE LOST HIS FEET SINCE THE 

CLOSE OF THE WAR. 



OGETHER with George E. Reed's Fam- 




ous War Relic : "The Campaign of the 
Sixth Army Corps," during the year 1S63 ; 
written by l\Ir. Reed while a private in 
Company A, Ninety-fifth Regiment Pennsylvania 
Volunteers, (known more generally as Goslin's 
Zouaves,) Second Brigade, First Division, Sixth 
Army Corps ; and a collection of short stories 
relative to events that happened during the Re- 
bellion, which will certainly prove interesting to 
all who purchase the book. 

While yet a boy of sixteen years I volunteered 
to fight for Uncle Sam. Seven years after I re- 
turned to the home of my boyhood at Allegan, 
Mich., (having put down the Rebellion with the 
assistance of the balance of the army — ihe great- 
est the world had ever seen, ) I was unfortunate 
enough to lose- both my feet, the particulars of 
which appear on the following pages. The first 
day I was able to walk without my feet I started 
in business with sixty-five cents. After nearly 
twelve years' experience in the peddling business 
I found two good reasons why I must abandon 
the sale of merchandise for something not sold 
in the stores : the first reason was on account of 
the exorbitant license forced from me by the 
municipal authorities — What ior? — to protect 
lliose who had more money than I, and were 
otherwise more fortunate : the second was on 
account of the inquisitive people who wanted to 
know more about me than I knew myself, and 
never need(.'d anything I offered for sale. 
And now I have decided Xo answer all, as 
it will be found in tliis book, and !X no 

other WAV 




iftlie information is wt)rlli 
havmg, it is wortli somethmg, and i CAN'r 



LIVE ON (ji'ESTioNS, as lliey have been 
lired ;',t me for so many years. I have 
lately revised and added new material to 
the work, thereby increasing its value, 
and making the book better than ever. 



Public Patronage is a Public Trust. 



A SHORT SKETCH OF MY LIFE AND EXPERIENCE. 



IVVAS BORN at Adrian, Midi., Maicli 
14, 1848. Onor about the 23d of Sep- 
tember, 1864. I went to Kalamazoo, 
Mich., from Allegan, where I had resided 
for several years with my parents. The 
Twenty-eighth Michigan Infantry was be- 
ing organized at Kalamazoo. I had found 
a fi.)rmer friend from Allegan, Al. Ester- 
brook ; he was on guard, and I was walk- 
ing along the beat with him, carrying an 
old musket, and imagining I was or ought 
to be a soldier, when I discovered an ofli- 
cer approaching, and when he was a dozen 
yards away, he said : "Here, young man, 
put that musket where you got it, and if 
I see — why hello, Charlie, is that you ? 
I did not recognize you at first. Why, I 
heard your mother died on the 17th ; I am 
sorry for you, my boy. Do you want to 
enlist ? I am raising a company and want 
all the Allegan boys I can get." This was 
Captain S. S. Thomas, whom I had known 
for some years at home. I replied that 
my business in Kalamazoo was to enlist; 
we went to headquarters where I was en- 
rolled as a private in Company E, Twenty- 
eighth Michigan Infantry, On the 26th, 
with others, I was sworn into the United 
States service for three years. On the 
27th of October, the organization of the 
regiment having been completed, we left 
the State by railway transportation and 
arrived in Louisville, Ky., on tiie 29th, 
where we went into camp just outside the 
city, and soon learned how to cook coffee, 
bacon and beans in the most approved 
soldier fashion. A letter from my former 
Captain, dated March 31, 1889, furnishes 
some facts in regard to our life up to March 
10, 1865, which enables me to make this 
article more authentic than it would be if 
I relied wholly upon my own memory. 
On October 30th, a part of Company D 
was detached from the regiment and sent 
as a guard to a drove of cattle being sent 
to Nashville, Tenn., for General Thomas' 
army. They got as far as Mumfordsville, 
Ky., and linding the guerillas too many 



for them, they sent back for reinforce- 
ments, and Company E was selected for 
that duty. When about to leave in light 
marching order (for when the officers 
would say "Left!" the boys would say 
"Left! left our ponchos and tents, and 
are darned lucky our overcoats and blank- 
ets were not left !") our Captain received 
orders to proceed to the city prison and 
get two guerillas that had been sentenced 
to be shot, and take them out sixteen 
miles south-east of Mumfordsville, on 
Johnson's farm, and there execute them. 
We arrived at Mumfordsville in the night, 
and in the morning it was raining — the 
prisoners were placed in a wagon, and 
took their last ride on their own coffins ; 
people usually take their last ride in their 
coffin, and this was the first deviation from 
the rule that I ever observed. A part of 
the men were mounted. The mud we 
tramped through on our march must be 
seen to be appreciated — it was real old 
Kentucky mud, which made walking pos- 
sible, but to run was entirely out of the 
question. One-half the company remain- 
ed in the rear as a reserve in case of an 
attack, perhaps four miles from the place 
of execution . It makes me feel damp even 
now, when I think how the rain poured 
down upon us that day. 

On die loth of November we crossed 
Green river on a pontoon bridge, swim- 
ming the cattle, and took up our line of 
march for Nashville, along the Louisville 
and Nashville pike, which was in a terrific 
state of disrepair, but the adhesiveness of 
the inevitable red mud made the boys 
stick to the pike, so called, bad as it was ; 
the rough, sharp, broken limestone would 
roll under our feet and cut our shoes, and 
sometimes our feet ; may be we didn't 
wish we had remained at home, especially 
when it would rain and sleet, and we 
would shiver as we never shivered before. 
With the cold, wet to the skin the most 
of the time, and our overcoats seemed to 
weigh a quarter of a ton, and JefTThonip- 



-3 



son with his two hundred guerillas would 
disturb our peaceful slumbers at night — 
well, we soon got an idea of the life of a 
soldier. 

At Cave City the rain poured down in 
torrents, and some of the rebel sympa- 
thizers thought it would be nice to get the 
boys drinking whisky and drug them, so 
that it would be an easy matter for JefT 
Thompson to capture us and our charge, 
three hundred head of fat cattle, (any old 
soldier who ate any of that beef will tes- 
tify that it might have been fat some 
months previous to the time of its slaugh- 
ter,) but our Captain was on to their little 
game at once, and closed all the stores 
and saloons and put a guard over them, 
and the old boys found the Yankees too 
smart for them again. 

VV^e left the next morning for Gallatin, 
Tenn. , and our march to that point was 
still worse, the rain turned into hail, sleet 
and snow, and the weather was bitter 
cold. At Gallatin we were ordered to 
Baker's plantation with the cattle, to feed 
and recruit them, as the army was kick- 
ing about so much beef dried with the 
hide on. * Here the snow was eight inches 
deep, with a hard crust that would bear a 
man's weight ; our overcoats were all we 
had to protect us from the cold, and a stiff 
lot of boys would turn out to roll call in 
the morning ; to warm up during the day 
we skirmished for sheep, chickens and 
persimmons. One night our Captain, who 
boarded with the Bakers, overheard a bit 
of conversation that made his ears tingle 
— they, the Bakers, thought the Captain 
was out, instead of being in his room — 
he lieard them plan to give him a grand 
reception the following Wednesday night, 
and about ten o'clock JeffThompson was 
to take us by surprise ; but Capt. Thomas 
quietly took a walk the next day, and 
after looking the ground over decided 
where Jeff would be most likely to ap- 
proach us ; that was across a creek one- 
fourth of a mile from the house ; he chang- 
ed the pasture, placing the cattle near the 
house, and put myself and three more men 
on guard, commanded by Sergt. Brown, 
a most reliable man, at the creek ford ; 



all other points were well guarded, and a 
good reserve remained. The entertain- 
ment was somewhat overdone. It was a 
clear, cold, moonlight night — the guard 
hearing a rustling of the bushes fired in 
that direction, and the whole squad fired, 
and the Captain came down on a double 
(juick to inquire if any assistance was 
needed, but Sergeant Brown told him he 
had men enough to whip the whole force. 
Jeff and his band retreated, and in the 
morning the Captain informed the Bakers 
that the safety of their lives depended on 
the good behavior of Jeff Thompson and 
his band, and did not allow any member 
of the family to leave the house during 
our stay on the plantation. We left soon 
after the first of December and marched 
to a new camp nearer Nashville. While 
there, one day I was with some of the 
boys on an exploring expedition, and we 
met some men engaged in butchering 
some small hogs, we proposed to buy 
some livers and pay for them on pay day, 
when one of them said "there are some 
lights in the run (creek) good enough for 

Yankees ;" we were not brought up 

to eat that kind of rations, and took a 
walk towards our camp and made a dis- 
covery. The next day the planter came 
to our camp and reported the loss of 
twenty bee hives and honey, the Captain 
questioned all the boys closely, searched 
the camp, found some so-called soft soap 
but no honey, then told the poor, old far- 
mer all his soldier boys had been too well 
reared at home to molest anything, it 
must have been some one else, besides 
the men were all sick — so they were, as 
honey, bacon and hard tack had made 
them sick. 

Early in December we arrived at Nash- 
ville, turned our cattle over to the quarter- 
master's department, and rejoined our 
regiment, which had arrived a little ahead 
of us with a wagon train from Louisville. 
The regiment was assigned to the Second 
Brigade, First Division, (Ruger's.) Twen- 
ty-third Army Corps, and took an active 
part in the engagement from the 12th to 
the 1 6th of December, to the entire satis- 
faction of our commanding officers. After 



-4- 



the fight \vc went into camp near the peni- 
tentiary antl jjiiarded the prisoners, wlio 
were scantily clothed and nearly starved 
when captured, but had fouj^ht bravely. 
On December 25th we loaded them on sev- 
eral freij^ht trains and started for Louisville 
where we arrived January i, 1865, and had 
a jolly time seeing the sights on that New 
Year's Day. I was with a small party who 
probably had more fun than any other 
exjiloring party from the Twentj'-eighth. 
We visited a bakery and restaurant, and 
paid I3.00 for a fried chicken, I1.50 each 
for ham and eggs ; then we took a large 
fancy cake from the window, this was 
taken on the installment plan, and we sat 
on a church step while we ate it, several 
squares away from where we ate the chick- 
en, ham and eggs, and returned to our 
headquarters in time for roll call in the 
evening. We returned to Nashville on 
the next day, where we remained until 
January nth, doing some fancy drilling 
in the mud, seeing the sights of the city 
when off duty, and some fast running to 
get away from the Eighteenth Michigan, 
who were doing provost or military police 
duty. 

When we left Nashville on board a 
steamer we were bound for Eastport, 
Miss. Upon our arrival at Paducah, Ky., 
we were ordered to proceed to Washing- 
ton, D. C. We remained on the boat un- 
til we arrived at Cincinnati, O., where we 
disembarked at the foot of Main street, 
. and tried to get warm around some pine 
wood fires. We then marched to the Pan 
Handle depot, sampled some of the leaf 
tobacco, and stored ourselves into palace 
box cars, where we remained until our 
arrival at Alexandria, Va., on the 25th. 

On February 19th we embarked on 
board a magnificent transport steamer to 
join the forces then being organized to 
capture Wilmington, N. C. We had a 
jolly rough ride around Cape Hatteras, 
and arrived off Fort Fisher on the evening 
of February 23d — a gunboat steamed out 
of the river, sent a shot across our bow, 
and our good ship hove too very quickly, 
when the gunboat sent some officers on 
board who, after carefully examining our 



papers, informed us that Wilmington had 
been taken just before we arrived. My 
company was quartered away down in 
the hold, but I had a peculiar way of my 
own of not obeying orders sometimes, 
and managed to stay on deck, where I 
got plenty of fresh air and learned what 
was going on. I never shirked my duty, 
but off duty would always manage to look 
out for Charlie. We were ordered to 
Beaufort, N. C, where we arrived on the 
26th, and from there to Newbern by rail- 
way, and here we found we were part of 
quite a little army under the command of 
J. D. Cox. On March 2d we took up our 
line of march towards Goldsboro', re- 
building the railroad, building corduroys 
for the wagons and artillery, and when we 
were resting we would lift the latter out 
of the mud. Our marching was mostly 
done at night, and then work all day. I 
fell off a cypress log one day into tjie 
water, nearly up to my neck ; a regiment 
of cavalry was passing on the corduroy, 
when one of them called out : "Hey, web 
foot, get on to your bureau and float over. 

you !" I have been gunning for that 

man ever since. On the 7th of March we 
halted and arranged an elegant camp and 
were enjoying our rest hugely, but on the 
morning of the 8th we heard some can- 
nonading, and there was great activity 
among the troops when we got orders to 
strike tents, and as we were forming into 
line for the march, a battery dashed past 
us, the horses on the run, the drivers yell- 
ing and trying to swear just a little bit as 
they thundered along ; a battery man yell- 
ed at us "Come on, web-foot, come on ; 
there's lots of fun up yonder, come a run- 
ning, you !" Well, we did run ; 

it was about nine o'clock in the morning. 
As soon as we got into line the order was 
"Forward, double-quick, march!" The 
Colonel galloped along the line shouting 
"Close up, close up !" While on the 
march, some boys had captured a colored 
boy with an ox hitched to a cart, they 
loaded the cart with knapsacks for one 
day, but the next day the ox had vanish- 
ed, the hungry boys had eaten him, and 
the cart had furnished the fuel with which 



-5 



to cook tlie carcass. A certain officer 
had made a bargain vvitli tlie darkey to 
carry his baggage, and when we got into 
the forced march, as we neared the battle- 
field, the darkey conscientiously dropped 
the baggage and took to the swamp ; he 
was heard to say "Fore de Lord, Massa, 
I'se a gittin' out of dis !" We had to 
continue our run for two hours, and then 
wound up with a successful charge, cap- 
turing several hundred men and several 
field officers. Then we learned that in 
the morning, General Cox's command 
had been attacked by the enemy and 
about seven hundred men, under the 
command of Colonel Upham, were cap- 
tured, and that our brigade, consisting of 
the One Hundred and Twenty-third, One 
Hundred and Twenty-ninth, and One 
Hundred and Thirtieth Indiana, and the 
Twenty-eighth Michigan infantry regi- 
ments, commanded by Colonel John Mc- 
Christian, of the One Hundred and Twen- 
ty-third Indiana, arrived on the field just 
in time to prevent the enemy penetrating 
Cox's lines, between General Palmer and 
Carter's Divisions. The Twenty-eighth 
was engaged in heavy skirmishing all that 
day and the following night. Where Com- 
pany E was stationed the ground was very 
wet and our Captain was quite sick. We 
would make a bed of brush and rails two 
feet high, and in a little while it would 
sink until he was in the water, and we 
would build it up again ; fortunately we 
had plenty of rails at hand. Our Captain 
was knocked out in the double-quick on 
the day previous, still he remained with 
us until the loth, when he was too weak 
to sit up, with diarrhoea and fever, and 
we had to send him to a hospital. On 
the 9th we were sent to support a battery 
of the Third New York Light Artillery ; 
the enemy had a battery directly opposite 
us and were cutting the trees down, so 
that it was not near as .safe behind those 
works as it would have been some other 
place. Our skirmish line had captured 
or driven back the enemy's skirmishers, 
and had been compelled to retreat to our 
works while the artillery fought the battle. 
At this particular point there was a ravine 



between the lines, and the fallen timber 
greatly obstructed our men as we charged 
that two-gun battery. It was a gallant 
charge, led by our color-sergeant. After 
disabling the guns and killing their horses, 
our Colonel drove us back ; we went re- 
luctantly, but when we felt the effect of 
their infantry fire we were glad enough 
to be behind those breast-works again. 

On the loth they hustled us about con- 
siderably. During the night the enemy 
(being partially defeated and somewhat 
afraid we were being reinforced, for all 
night long the bands marched up and 
down our lines, and every body was hur- 
rahing for Sherman) retreated, burning 
the bridge in their rear when they crossed 
the Neuse river. The musketry during 
the afternoon of the 9th, also the loth, was 
most terrific ; old veterans said they never 
experienced heavier. During our charge 
on the 9th our Sergeant Maior was nearly 
killed by the concussion of a shell, which 
passed so close to his head he said it made 
a fool of him, and I thought it hid killed 
him until I met him in Detroit, Mich., in 
August, 1888. While waiting for the en- 
gineers to rebuild the bridge, we buried 
our dead and cared for the wounded. I 
never knew what was done with the pris- 
oners we captured ; I heard some of them 
say they were glad to be captured in order 
to get something to eat ; poor fellows, 
they fought well, even if they were nearly 
starved. Some of the boys said they went 
over the field and found our line of battle 
had been nearly seven miles long and in 
the shape of a horse-shoe. Our force was 
estimated at 15,000 ; that of the enemy was 
much greater. The command we were 
in constituted a part of the force concen- 
trating in the vicinity of W^ilmington. 
While the details were burying the dead 
I went out to negotiate for a ham or any 
other movable property. I had secured 
a good woolen coverlet, an excellent 
blanket, and was in a smoke house ne- 
gotiating for a well-cured ham, and did 
not know that hundreds of other men were 
in that vicinity t)n a similar mission, when 
bang ! bang ! bang ! and then two distinct 
volleys of musketry considerably disturb- 



-6- 



etl my arbitrary iies^otiations Tor tlic- ham. 
I rushed out very lively to see if 1 was 
killed or only captured. I feared the col- 
ored people who I had persuaded to loan 
me the blanket — which I needed, having 
lost my own in oneof our charges through 
the green briars — had become suspicious 
of my "varacity" and had betrayed me 
into the hands of the enemy, and to be 
killed or captured in a smoke house was, 
in my opinion, the mark of a poor soldier. 
Determined to give them a good fight, 
I rushed out to find it was some of our 
boys killing sheep — a necessity of war, 
for we had been without rations for sev- 
eral days. You can, perhaps, imagine 
my relief when I found I was still alive 
and not captured. 

March 14th, my seventeenth birthday, 
we marched to Kinston, but a few miles 
from the scene of our late conflict ; after 
we had feasted on government and other 
rations, our gallant commander, Colonel 
W. \V. Wheeler, ordered the men to re- 
move the top rails from the fences, which 
order was obeyed until no rails remamed 
within one mile of our lines, then the boys 
went to work with pick and shovel and 
w^orked faithfully until near midnight, 
when we were allowed to rest until five 
o'clock on the morning of the 15th, and 
then had to answer to our names at roll- 
call. Immediately after that little fires 
began to twinkle along the line while the 
stars were fading away, soon the aroma 
of cofifee and bacon suggested creature 
comforts, and the whole economy of life, 
behind the magnificent earthworks that 
had been erected the previous night, was 
moving as steadily on as if it had never 
been interrupted. Before we had fairly 
begun to enjoy the pleasures of exploring 
the surrounding country the drums beat 
the long roll of assembly, and before the 
sun had risen very high we had resumed 
our march and the reconstruction of the 
railroad to Goldsboro', where we arrived 
on the 2i.st, when the brigade was placed 
on duty guarding the Atlanta and North 
Carolina Railroad. We had re-built tliis 
road from Newbern, and brought supplies 
to this point for Sherman's Army. The 



Twenty-eighth wasstationed several miles 
east of Goldsboro', and given a section of 
the railroad to patrol. I was stationed at 
the home of an old man to act as safe- 
guard for the family. I felt the deepest 
sympathy for them, as they had two sons 
who had been pressed into the Confed- 
erate Army. On the 9th of April we re- 
turned to Goldsboro'. While here the 
Twenty-eighth supported a detachment 
of. the First Michigan mechanics while 
they built a bridge across the river that 
Sherman's Army must cross before en- 
tering Goldsboro'. The first to arrive 
were the scouts and foragers, we called 
them bummers, and I suppose the unfor- 
tunate people living or trying to live 
along their line of march called them 
many other names. The army soon re- 
sumed its march westward. The second 
and third divisions of the Twenty-third 
corps came up from Wilmington, N. C, 
with Sherman's Army, and the Twenty- 
third corps was halted on a plantation 
with heavy pine forests on two sides, each 
regiment was drawn up in line, and the 
whole corps was massed quite close to- 
gether, then came the command "Atten- 
tion to Orders !" and the order was read 
to each regiment by its commanding offi- 
cer, that Lee had surrendered. Imme- 
diately following this some one set fire to 
a large tar kiln in the forest, the troops 
broke ranks, carrying their officers on 
their shoulders and shouting themselves 
hoarse, while many washed the soot oft 
their faces with tears, so great was their 
joy at the glad tidings. The flames from 
the tar kilns leaped beyond the tops of the 
highest trees, while the wind carried the 
smoke over our heads, making a dense 
black canopy over this to all appearances 
demoralized mob of howling demons, but 
military discipline soon restored order 
and we marched away never to behold a 
sight to equal the one we were leaving, 
and the ever vigilant, creeping, tickling, 
biting, little graybacks bit and crawled up 
and down our backs with the same energy 
they (lid before the surrender. 

We arrived in Raleigh about the 20th 
ur 2rst of April, I say about that date, 



L 



-7- 



for I am compelled to write this from 
memory. We were in Raleigh several 
ays before we were ordered to prepare 
bra march, and when ready we marched 
but about two miles to another side of the 
city and went into camp near an inmiense 
spring that furnished water for 25,000 men 
and several thousand horses — and this oc- 
curred the day that Johnston surrendered 
to Sherman. We remained in camp there 
a while, I don't remember exactly the 
date we left, yet during our stay there was 
a grand review of the army. Nearly all 
left for Washington soon after the review, 
but the Twenty-eighth was destined to 
remain, and received some recruits from 
the Twenty-third and Twenty-fifth Michi- 
gan regiments — men who had enlisted in 
'64 for three years in those regiments were 
transferred to the Twenty-eighth. Early 
in May we left for the western part of the 
State and halted at Greensboro'. The 
most of the brigade came with us to this 
point One man was ordered to be buck- 
ed and gagged by the Colonel for a trifling 
infraction of military discipline, and some 
ofthe One Hundred and Thirtieth Indiana, 
hearing of this, came into our camp, over- 
powered the guards and cut the man loose. 
Colonel Wheeler threatened to call out 
the regiment to fire on the Indiana boys, 
but after thinking of it concluded to let the 
matter rest ; 'tis well he did, for mutiny 
would surely have occurred — the two regi- 
ments were fast friends. We then march- 
ed to Charlotte, Lincolnton and Dallas. 
We would stop long enough to allow our 
officers to administer the oath of allegi- 
ance to the citizens and appoint officials 
to enforce the laws, while the boys would 
explore every wood, hill, ravine, field, and 
all the old mines. They soon learned how 
much corn or cotton grew to the acre, 
where all the green corn, fruit, and other 
delicacies were located, and the names of 
the native girls, while some fell in love 
with and married thcjsebright-cyed south- 
ern maidens. While at Lincolnton the 
weather became very hot, and some of 
the boys suffered greatly with the heat ; 
one man in my company, John.B. Draper, 
was sunstruck while on guard in front of 



the Colonel's headquarters, on the 20th 
or 21st of June. A man belonging to an- 
other company had his leg broken by a 
falling timber while the boys were build- 
ing bowers over their tents to keep the 
sun off. 

In September, '65, Company E went to 
Raleigh to do guard duty at Department 
Headquarters, Gen. T. H. Ruger in com- 
mand or military Governor of North and 
South Carolina. I was finally detailed to 
drive General Ruger's carriage. General 
Grant came to Raleigh in 1866 several 
times, and I took him from the depot to 
his hotel or other parts of the city, while 
acting as orderly for General Ruger. The 
balance of the regiment had been doing 
duty at Goldsboro' and other points in 
the State, while Company E was at Ral- 
eigh. June 6th, 1866, we left Raleigh, and 
when we arrived in Detroit, Mich., were 
finally mustered out of service. The 
ladies of Detroit gave us a splendid din- 
ner, after which the boys left for their re- 
spective homes. 

When I arrived at Allegan I found I had 
made a great mistake by going into the 
army, for while in the service of my coun- 
try I contracted chronic diarrhoea and have 
never fully recovered from it ; I had missed 
my chance to acquire an education, and 
the other boys had secured the good sit- 
uations and there was nothing left me 
but the rough work, winch I was not fit 
for, all on account of having been too 
patriotic. I secured a situation as an ap- 
prentice to learn the machinist trade, but 
took sick and lost my situation, and many 
more good opportunities passed me on 
account ofthe same reason as given above, 
until at last seeing no other chance to earn 
a living I ventured on the railroad. First 
on the Grand Rapids and Indiana, then 
to the Pittsburgh, Ft. Wayne and Chicago 
Railroad, North Missouri, Chicago, North- 
Western, Lake Shore and Michigan South- 
ern. In August, 1873, I left the Pittsburgh, 
Ft. Wayne and Chicago Railroad, and 
went on the Toledo and Wabash as a 
brakeman on freight from Ft. Wayne to 
Lafayette, Ind. I had been in very good 
health for nearlva vear, and weii^hed about 



8- 



one hundred and eighty pounds ; I stood 
five feet nine and a half inches high. On 
the 2Sth of October a light snow fell in that 
locality. On the 29th, about 41'. m., 1 
started from near the passenger station at 
Lafayette with several of my railroad com- 
rades toboard a train movmg east towards 
my caboose, being the foremost one of the 
party, to accommodate the others, I tried 
to get on to the forward end of the cab- 
oose car of the beforementioned train, it 
was a little slippery, and I had on a pair 
of new sewed boots, my foot slipped and 
I missed my hold and fell, my comrades 
failing to have sufficient presence of mind 
to move me and the wheels passed over 
both legs just above the ankle joints, 
crushing the bones and flesh but did not 
break the skin, and that is what probably 
saved my life. I have since met ten times 
as many men as actually saw me hurt, and 
they all say they saw me when I fell. No 
one can imagine how delighted I am to 
meet these men, for if one of them had 
taken hold ( f me he could have saved my 
feet, as when I fell I broke my left leg 
above the knee and the left foot lay on 
top of the right, and in my effort to get 
up, not knowing I was hurt, I put both 
feet across the track in the rear of the for- 
ward wheels ; when I discovered what I 
had done I tried to pull myself back and 
my boot held me fast and on acccount of 
the shock of breaking my leg I could not 
get out of the way in time and the hind 
wheels caught me. I was picked up and 
taken to my boarding house on Tippe- 
canoe street, whers Drs. Glick and Wal- 
lace soon arrived. After making an ex- 
amination they decided I would not sur- 
vive a double amputation that evening. 
The next morning, to the surprise of many, 
I was still alive and apparently doing well, 
but on the third day I had gone back won- 
derfully, and then it became necessary to 
stimulate me, and on the 17th of Novem- 
ber the left foot was amputated and the 
right foot seemed to be doing so well it 
was decided to wait awhile ; in the mean- 
time I had lost all my flesh so I would not 
have weighed more than eighty pounds 



and had bed sores all over my back. 
Finally the right foot behaved very badly, 
large ulcers came on either side, and my 
leg was placed on a double incline plane 
and a seton run through my foot. If ever 
I wanted to be in heaven it was when they 
removed that seton. The first week in 
January, '74, an abcess, which had been 
forming in my left thigh, broke, and dis- 
charged freely for two hours ; it was esti- 
mated that one-half gallon of pus run out 
in that time. Then about the 15th of Jan- 
uary the right foot was amputated and in 
fourteen more days I began to think I was 
improving. The amputation on the left 
foot healed in thirteen weeks, that of the 
right in eleven weeks. I was confined to 
the bed until April, when I commenced 
to sit up. The fracture in my left leg, 
being an oblique one, would not unite, or 
on account of the abcess could not make 
a perfect joint, so the bone lapped to- 
gether five and a half inches, and the ends 
of the bone make two offsets, so I cannot 
wear an artificial limb. In May I began 
to learn to walk ; in June I went to Ft. 
Wayne, it was a necessity, there were so 
many of my friends who wanted to send 
me to the almshouse before I could learn 
to help myself. The 23d day of June was 
the first day I walked alone ; on that day 
a railroad boy gave me one dollar, after 
he failed to persuade me to visit a saloon 
to take a drink. Fortunately, I soon after 
met an agent of O. M. Allen, of Kalama- 
zoo, who desired to sell me some patent 
pencils, quite a nice and useful novelty at 
that time. He commenced to talk of my 
buying two gross, and I shook my head, 
but he stayed with me two hours, and 
when he got down to talking about my 
buying two dozen I commenced to talk, 
and asked him if he would sell me one- 
half dozen, as I had but ninety-four cents, 
having bought two postage stamps to 
mail that number of letters to some of 
my friends, who n*;ver answered them. 
Well, after two hours as hard work as ihal 
agent ever did on one customer, I bought 
one-half dozen pencils for sixty-five cents 
and sold them at twenty-five cents each, 



making a nice profit, and my price beinj^ 
lower tiian that of my competitors, tlie 
merchants, I sold a great many dnring the 
two years I was in the business. The 
local dealers often got even with me 
though by sending some one to shadow 
me and keep count of my sales, and they 
often had my license revoked because I 
was doing too much business. While in 
a small Wisconsin city one bright June day 
in 1S75, ^ big fat German marshal wanted 
to peruse my license ; not having that ne- 
cessary article, he said I must go with 
him to the mayor, who at that time was 
in the council room, up over a store, the 
council being in session. He would not 
allow me to enter, but said, as he went in 
to report his important capture, "Now, 
you stood dere till I cooms back." Soon 
as that door closed I commenced to go 
down stairs, and on the street I met the 
proprietor of the hotel where I was stop- 
ping. When he learned of my arrest he 
took me to the depot and kept me safely 
until train time When the train pulled 
out of the station I looked out the win- 
dow, the marshal was on the platform, 
and placing my thumb on the end of my 
nose with fingers extended, I said "Now, 
you stood dere till I cooms back." I was 
finally run out of the State on account of 
the license, which was at that time more 
than I could pay and make a living. Now, 
however, it is quite different, as there is 
a law in Wisconsin which is more humane. 
When the lead pencils were not sale- 
abla any more I went into another branch 
of peddling — that of selling on the street. 
When a man is a peddler or canvasser he 
is called a beggar, but if an able-bodied 
man tries to sell goods upon the street 
from the hurricane deck of a dry goods 
box, barrel, carriage or other stand, he is 
called a fakir. If you want to know what 
a free country this is just try to sell some- 
thing on the street. You will find the li- 
cense from l^r.oo to f 50.00 per day, and if 
you complain when it seems exorbitant, 
you will be (if able-bodied) promptly told 
to go to work, but if you cannot work then 
they will kindly tell you that the county 



where you belong will take care of you; 
if you try to canvass an office building you 
will be thrown out ; if you were a soldier, 
then in the minds of many you have no 
right whatever to try to make a living in 
any kind of traveling business, but must 
go to a soldiers' home. 

I got a permit from the mayor of a small 
western city in the year 1879, to sell sta- 
tionery on the street ; the mayor was a 
doctor and happened to be called out of 
the city before I had a chance to make a 
sale, then the marshal deliberately stood 
by until I got a few people around me, and 
I thought I was going to do some business, 
but the marshal demanded fo.oo license, 
tore up the permit the mayor had given 
me and threatened to put me in jail if I 
sold one twenty-five cents worth before 
he got his I3.00. I had to sneak out of 
town best I could because I hadn't $3.00 
to give him. 

The first dawn of friendship that broke 
the dark clouds of adversity came in De- 
cember, 1879. After being kicked all over 
the west and south I crossed the Ohio 
river into Pennsylvania one fine afternoon 
a few days before Christmas. I had been 
yelling at the citizens of Harrisburg as to 
the good qualities of my goods until my 
throat was complaining and I had stopped 
business to rest, when a gentleman came 
along and made a sign, asking me if I be- 
longed to the Grand Army of the Repub- 
lic ; not being a member I could not un- 
derstand him, but the signal reminded me 
of an incident that occurred soon after the 
battle of Nashville, Tenn. The Colonel 
Williams, of Allegan, who had organized 
our regiment, had resigned, and we had 
just received a new Colonel, a brave, dash- 
ing fellow, previously mentioned. I was 
near the penitentiary, and recognizing our 
new Colonel galloping towards the city, 
thought I would give him a fancy salute — 
making exactly the same salute as this 
gentleman had made to me just fifteen 
years later, and in both instances it was 
to a certain extent a failure, for I did not 
uiulerstand the citizen of Harrisburg, 
neither did the Colonel appreciate my 



10- 



efforts at politeness, for he stopped his 
horse in front of nie and said in a very 

clear tone : "Whole hand or nothing, 

you!" a favorite expression of his, 

and rode away. That is what this friendly 
salute reminded me of. Later on he ex- 
plained to me the good work done by the 
G. A. R. i said I would join his noble 
order as soon as my finances would per- 
mit, but not until August 6, i8So, was I 
mustered into Post No. 5S, Department 
of Pennsylvania, located at Harrisburg, — 
Wilson C. Fox was then Commander, and 
Frank B. Kinneard, Adjutant. I very soon 
found I had friends. Through the influ- 
ence of members of the order m different 
cities, I got permission to sell knives on 
the public streets, but the everlasting in- 
quisitives, who never needed anything I 
was selling, continued to inquire how, 
when and where I lost my feet, how did 
I walk with both feet off, where was I 
from, why did I not go to a soldiers' home, 
and got mad if I did not promise to go 
there immediately. Notwithstanding the 
influence of the comrades of the G. A. R. 
I had to pay a license ; they often got it 
reduced for me and sometimes free. I 
had to spread out from 150 to 300 knives 
on a small space and urge the people to 
inspect the goods, and if they so desired 
they could purchase their choice for 25 
cents. Five years in the business cost me 
{f2,ooo for knives stolen and |i,ooo for li- 
cense ; still it don't cost a man anything 
' to do business on the street — the mer- 
chant with |io,ooo capital does not pay as 
much license as the poor street salesman 
with less than 10,000 cents, who is trying 
to keep himself and family out of the alms- 
house, — and yet this is a free country. 

The last year in the knife business is a 
fair sample of the treatment one must ex- 
pect if he attempts to make a living in 
vending goods upon the street. In Jan- 
uary, 1885, I went from Indianapolis, Ind., 
to Louisville, Ky., and paid all the license 
required for the months of January, Feb- 
ruary and March — 15.00 per month. Dur- 
ing the latter month , business getting dull , 
1 made arrangements to leave, but none 



too soon, for the day I left, March 12th, the 
State officials were looking for me. They 
had enforced an old law, which up to that 
time had been a dead letter for several 
years, but had I desired to remain another 
week I would have been liable to impris- 
onment if I did not pay f 100 for a State 
license, but fortunately I was on the Ohio 
river bound for Madison, Ind., when the 
State officers were looking for me. From 
Madison to several towns in the State ; 
then to Dayton, Ohio, and was there on 
Memorial Day; then to Toledo, O., and 
from Toledo to Portland, Me. Did very 
little business so far. On July 4th was on 
Boston Commons with knives for about 
twenty minutes, when a man desired to 
examine my State license, not having so 
expensive a luxury, (they cost only I50.00' 
to sell foreign made goods in the State of 
Massachusetts,) this official kindly gave 
me ten minutes to get out or get a license ; 
as I had but |io.oo I prepared to sneak, 
wondering if it would not be well to shoot 
all cripples so they would not be around 
to annoy those who are more fortunate ; 
but my reverie was suddenly broken by 
the voice of a comrade of the G. A. R., 
who being a disabled Massachusetts sol- 
dier had a State license, but nothing of 
any account to sell ; he proposed I enter 
into a partnership with him, but as I could 
see no honorable w^ay whereby two men 
could be equally benefited by such a ven- 
ture, declined. He took great offense at 
that and declared he would have me ar- 
rested because I had sold $5. 00 worth while 
I was open for business. He could not 
leave his stand and his voice was not 
strong enough to be heard very far, so 
while he was yelling police I got a young 
man to carry my valise to a cab, and once 
off the grounds was safe enough. It be- 
ing impossible to do business in the State, 
I went to Bellows Falls, Vermont, and 
through that State to St. Johnsbury, then 
into New Hampshire, but soon got fired 
out of that Slate with their license laws, 
anil finally got into New York State where 
I always found friends. Had a little skir- 
mish one evening with a comrade at Troy 



— 11- 



who was wealthy and thought he could 
bluff me off the street, failing in that he 
got ashamed of himself and after he had 
closed his store he came over to my stand 
and bought f 2.00 worth of knives. 1 went 
to several other cities and as the winter 
came on worked towards Harrisburg. 

After five years' hard work and worry, 
I hadn't anything to show for all my labor 
but 125.00, and a family to support ; no 
feet, so I could not work in the rolling 
mills ; could do nothing but peddle and 
the outlook for that was gloomy. I went 
to my comrade, Geo. E. Reed, and after 
he had listened kindly and attentively to 
a statement of how things were, he good 
naturedly said : " Comrade, there is one 
of two things a good American will do 
when he is busted, he will either write a 
book or take up a collection." I said the 
latter was no good, having tried it in 
Texas with a Punch and Judy show. He 
said he could furnish some material to- 
ward a book — which he did. He gave 
nie his famous War Relic — "The Cam- 
paign of the Sixth Army Corps" — more 
than 100,000 copies had been sold during 
1 864-' 65, at twenty- five cents per copy, 
and it being authentic history and without 
doubt the only article of the kind ever 
written by a private soldier while in the 
service, I gladly accepted his generous 
offer and thanked him best I could, but 
he was so accustomed to doing favors for 
others all his life he appeared to not ob- 
serve that he was doing me a very great 
fiivor. Yet I don't believe more valuable 
history, occupying the same space, exists 
outside the Bible. After securing so much 
toward a great book I gathered the other 
material which it contained, and my com- 
rade Frank B. Kinneard printed me an 
edition of five thousand copies on credit. 

In 1S91, while selling the book in St. 
Paul, Mmn., on August i8th, a man call- 
ing himself supermtendent, but I don't 
know exactly of what, threatened to put 
the police onto me and run me out of town 
as I had no right to go around, that I 
should be taken care of, etc. T tokl him 
what I thought of a man like him and 



then went to the mayor, who gave me a 
permit to sell the book fifteen days, and 
it was renewed after it expired, and United 
States Commissioner McCafferly notified 
the meddlesome superintendent to leave 
me severely alone, which he proceeded to 
do. I remained in the city thirty days, 
did as well as the average, found some 
good people, got fired — that is forcibly 
put — out of the usual number of office 
buildings, stores, saloons, hotels, etc., by 
those fortunate people who despise a man 
in my fix and heap all the meanness they 
can think of upon him if he dares to enter 
their premises and ask them to buy some- 
thing. The reason I don't go to the sol- 
diers' home is that I consider my business 
as honorable as any other person, and that 
I have as much right as others to make a 
living — if they have a better right where 
did they get it ? If a man has a right to 
hire a man to put me out of an office 
building when I want to see the tenants 
on a legitimate business, where did he get 
that right? When people run after me 
and insist that I shall get artificial limbs, 
I wonder if they ever insist upon a blind 
man getting artificial eyes. 

Some real smart individuals .say, when 
I offer them one of my books, "Oh, the 
war is over, and ought to be forgotten !" 
Indeed ! and how do they know it is over 
when they had nothing to do with it, and 
why should it or one of the nation's de- 
fenders be forgotten ? I don't believe they 
will be forgotten by good citizens, neither 
do I believe these puffed up sarcastic in- 
dividuals could tell if asked to, when the 
war began or when it closed. The ques- 
tion as to when the war of the rebellion 
began and when it ended has frequently 
l)een before the Supreme Court of the 
United States. The war did not begin or 
close at the same time in all the States. 
The States did not all secede at the same 
time — there were two proclamations of 
intended blockade. The first on the 19th 
of April, 1S61, embracing the States of 
South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Flor- 
ida, Mississippi, Louisiana and Texas. 
The second on the 27th of April, 1861, 



-12- 



embracinjj the States of Virginia and 
North Carohna. In like manner there 
were two proclamations declaring the war 
closed — one issued on the 2d day of April, 
1866, embracing the States of Virginia, 
North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, 
Florida, Mississippi, Tennessee, Alabama, 
Ltniisian:! and Arkansas, and the other, 
issued on the 20th of August, 1866, em- 
bracing the State of Texas. So the court 
holds that as to all the States but Virginia 
and North Carolina, the war began on the 
19th day of April, 1861, and as to all the 
States but Texas it ended on the 2d day 
of April, 1866; technically we are bound 
by the decision of the court, but practic- 
ally the war began the 12th of April, 1861, 
when Sumter was fired on. The 9th of 
April, 1865, Lee surrendered to Grant 
near Appomattox Court House. Other 
queer people claim that as I was a Michi- 
gan soldier I should remain in my native 
State. Indeed ! But they don't hesitate 
to sell their goods in other States than 
their own. Michigan men were in all the 
Army Corps — Michigan men met the en- 
emy in eight hundred engagements, and 
as many Michigan men fell at Gettysburg, 
Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Spott- 
sylvania Court House, and all the great 
battles, as from any other State, in pro- 
portion to the number engaged, showing 
they were in the front as reliable men ; 
and at the surrender of Lee the officers 
passed through the lines at a point where 
Michigan men held the skirmish line ; and 
Michigan men captured Jeff Davis. Mich- 
igan men put down the rebellion with the 
assistance of the balance of the army. 

When I first came home from the war 
I was very proud of having served my 
country, but I was soon taught to not 
mention the fact by some sneak who was 
too cowardly to go himself and too mean 
to pay a substitute, and who would in- 



P. O. address — 

620 Delaware Avenue, 

H.\kkisbi:r(;. Pa. 



quire of me how much bounty I got, as 
though it was a disgraceful tiling to have 
been in the army at all, and a still bigger 
disgrace to have accepted any pay or 
bounty for such disgraceful service ; and 
ever since I have been a member of the 
G. A. R., this same class of citizens have 
been chasing me about to inquire how 
much pension I receive, as though an old 
soldier must carry on his breast a bulletin 
stating in large type how much pension 
he draws and how much cash he has on 
hand — and if a cripple, he must state how 
he became disabled, and must at all times 
be cheerful and full of information for 
the benefit of those who are too busy 
minding the business of others to attend 
to any business of their own. I have found 
by experience that in order to make a liv- 
ing I must sell something that does not 
conflict with the business of other people, 
and I must sell my goods at a very low 
price, because a great many deprecate the 
value of any article of merchandise sold 
by a cripple, because cripples, in their es- 
timation, are mere beggars, have no ca- 
pacity to do business, and must depend 
upon charity. Others are afraid to pat- 
ronize a cripple for fear he will make bad 
use of his money. 

I started with sixty-five cents worth of 
lead pencils on the 23d day of June, 1874. 
Have paid hundreds of dollars for license, 
and never paid a license in my life but the 
man who took my money said he was sorry 
for me — was he sorry I had a dollar left he 
could not get. 

That, dear reader, is real life on three 
sticks and no fiction. 

Should you wish to obtain any further 
copies of this book you can do so by ad- 
dressing me at my residence as given be- 
low, with an enclosure of ten cents for 
each copy desired. 

Sincerely yours, 




13 



CAMPAIGN OF THE SIXTH ARMY CORPS, 
Summer of 1863. 



[The verses here ^iven were written by George K. Reed, while in the army as a private in Company 
A, Ninety-fifth Reg^inient Pennsylvania 'Volunteers, attaclied to the SeconcI IJrigacle, I-"irst Division. 
Sixth Corps. In the introduction to the work thi.s statement is made : " The followinj^ pages are in- 
tended to convey to the pnblic a knowledge of the campaign of the Army of the Potomac auring the 
summer of 1863. In order to accomplish this end, and at the same time tell the ston.- in as concise a 
manner as possible, the author has pursued an entirely different course to that hitherto adopted by 
writers on the same subject. In this respect the work will be found original, but in all others he claims 
no further merit than is deserved for a careful compilation of facts from his own obser\'ation."j 



Oh the 28th of April we left our camp, 
By way of exercise to take a tramp ; 
To the Rappahannock River we sped away. 
To find the Rebel Army in battle arraj-. 

No sooner there than we espied 
Our enemy beyond the river's tide, 
Snugly stationed in their rifle pits, 
Already prepared to give us fits. 

We had to cross the river, without doubt, 
Which General vSedgwick soon found out. 
He had the pontoons hauled to the river bank 
And soon they were filled with many a Yank. 

General Brooks soon gave the word to start. 
The engineers pulled the boats very smart; 
To the middle of the river we had got 
Without the Rebels firing a shot. 

The sentry then, on the opposite shore, 
Espied the boats, some forty or more, 
Whereupon he fired his gun. 
Then up the hill he quickly run, 

To alarm the men in the rifle pits, 
Who were almost scared out of their wits; 
They fired one volley and qtiickly run. 
Strewing the ground with many a gun. 

Then our skirmishers advanced with caution, 
Thinking they might be acting the 'possum. 
And after the rifle pits we had gained, 
We found that three men had been maimed. 

Once over the river and tipon the plain. 
We would not be drove back again. 
On the plain we rested full one day, 
To arrange the lines in battle array. 

Next morning clear, and bj' sunrise 
The booming cannon rent the skies. 
The firing of the signal gun 
Proclaimed the work of death begun. 

Soon our starry banners were in the town 
Of Fredericksburg, of battle renown. 
The city was taken with a shout, 
And the Confederates put to rout. 

They fled out of the city and up the hill. 
Boasting many Yankees they would kill. 
Soon thej' were in their rifle pits. 
Fully prepared the Yankees to whip. 

Our General soon he made a decision, 
And ordered up the Flying Division; 
They went up the hill with a shout, 
And captured a battery in a redoubt. 



It was the Washington Batteryof New Orleans 
And as fine a one as ever was seen. 
The artillerists were a picked crew, 
And had to surrender, all but a few, 

Who escaped up the Orange plank-road, — 
And to see them go without a goad. 
Except a few Yankees in the road. 
Who did enforce the martial code. 

When we reached the top of the hill. 
Orders were given our canteens to fill; 
This was done in ver\' short time. 
And we all again fell into line. 

The Confederates continued falling back, 
While Federals followed close in their track. 
Until we reached a clump of pines. 
When there was a stoppage in the lines. 

This was caused by a dead artillerj' horse, 
And to remove him we had, of course. 
Which was done in a very short time, 
And we again advanced in line. 

Until we came to vSalem Church near 

We did not hear the Rebels cheer; 

Our skirmishers then were advancing slow. 

As this part of the country thej' didn't know. 

Up to this time we had it our way. 
But we came on the Rebs. who in ambush lay. 
And they sent volley after volley into our line. 
Killing and wotmding many in a short time. 

.\ flanking fire had broke our line. 

And we had to fall back in double-quick time; 

This we did with severe loss. 

As we had a ver\' large field to cross. 

The Confederates close at our heels, 
Thinking to skin us like so many "eels." 
Until we reached our supporting line 
Things to the Rebels looked very fine. 

Our second line stood like .statues of stone. 
And many a Rebel was cut to the bone. 
The enemy then they broke and run. 
This to our second line was fine "fun." 

The Rebels then all made for cover, 
.\nd the fighting of the day was over. 
Some laid down on the ground to sleep. 
While others laid there in grief to weep. 

The moon came out and shone ven*- bright. 
And the battle-field was a ghastly sight. 
To remove the wounded was our intent. 
And quickly out details were sent. 



-14- 



We removed alike both friend and foe. 
As this is a christian country, you know; 
The wounded we sent to the ambulance train 
And then we returned to t^leep again. 

We awoke in the morning:, the sky was clear, 
And the enemy's lines were very near, 
Their sharpshooters often firinjf a shot; 
Our skirmishers kept cool and answered not. 

In this position in the hot sun all daj' we lay, 
Tile Rebs. in front began a brass band to play, 
The music from it sounded very fine, 
And General Lee was arranging his line. 

To capture the Sixth Corps he made his brag, 
As he thought he had us all in a "bag;" 
We had seen this bagging process before, 
And the one he had was awfully tore. 

The sun had set nice and clear, 
And then we heard firing in our rear. 
Then orders were passed along the line 
To sling our knapsacks in a short time. 

This was done all very quiet, 
And to make the river we had to try it; 
When we started it was double-quick ' 
Over fences and through a creek. 

At last we reached Rappahannock's bank. 
And there laid down manj' a tired Yank. 
Wo laid there until morning — it began to rain. 
Which caused the men to curse and complain. 

At daylight we crossed to Stafford Heights, 
All very tired after several days' fights; 
We laid there two days in the woods, 
And having this rest we felt pretty good. 

During this week manj' died for freedom's 
Supporting the country and the laws, [cause ; 
Peace to the ashes of the fallen brave 

Who died our government to save. 

We left vStafford Heights one morning clear. 

And to White Oak Church our course did steer 

Ere long we reached our old camp, 

But we had just one mile further to tramp. 

At last we came to the end of our race. 
And in the cabins our things did place; 
'Twas the Thirty-third New York's old camp. 
And thus was ended our first tramp. 

In this place we lived like fighting cocks, 
We even had basins made of wooden blocks; 
Every cabin had a good place for fire, 
And about nine o'clock we would retire. 

At this place two weeks we staid. 
Then was transferred to another brigade; 
This caused us to move the camp further south 
And all of the boys were down in the mouth. 

Our new camp reached in a field of green. 
As fine a place as ever was seen, 
On each side of the street was a row of trees. 
And the Sixth Corps mark waved in the breeze 

At this place sixteen days we staid, 

Until Lee thought Hooker he would evade, 

And into Pennsylvania make a raid. 

As his cavalry horses were prettj' well played. 



(General Kilpatrick with his cavalry was sent, 
To find out Lee's movements was his intent; 
He came up with vSteuart at Brandy Station, 
And whipped him there like damnation. 

Here Kilpatrick showed up Lee's plan. 
And General Hooker did it carefully scan; 
The Sixth Corps was ordered to the river. 
Which made the Confeds. shake and quiver. 

We crossed the river under a heavy fire, 
And captured the Second Florida entire ; 
This was done one fine afternoon, 
And we throwed up two redoubts very soon. 

Which was done just for a blind, 

As to fight both parties declined; 

We laid on the plain three days or more. 

And then returned to the northern shore. 

We left one night in a heavy rain 
And for Potomac creek did aim ; 
We arrived at the creek at break of day. 
And on its banks all day did .stay. 

The enemj' crossed after us very soon. 
As we could see from our balloon; 
We started from here at eight at night. 
For Stafford Court House with all our might. 

As for the Confederates we were not afraid, 
But the Surgeon's mule he made a raid, 
Running around wherever he choose. 
And broke the ribs of a man named Hughes. 

When we arrived there we began to tire. 
And some rascals set the jail on fire — 
The flames from it made the sky verj' bright. 
And about some crackers there was a fight. 

We had one hour given us for ease. 
And then started for Dumfries; 
This day was the hottest, so far, this year. 
And many men were sun-struck, near. 

We halted three hours, near by a creek. 
For the men to rest, and to attend the sick; 
And then we started, with a pleasant breeze, 
And about six o'clock arrived at Dumfries. " 

The sick soon came following after, 
And their marching caused some laughter — 
Staggering under knapsacks, every one, 
That they carried in the sun. 

We got our supper and laid down to sleep. 
And ugly bugs over us did creep; 
We were up next morning at break of day. 
And for Fairfax Station started on our way. 

W^e arrived at four o'clock near the station, 
And the next day had a jollification — 
Whisky was plenty and some got drunk, 
One man had hia cartridge box on left in front. 

Some of the men got so tight 

That among themselves they began to fight; 

This lasted all day until near night. 

And they presented a comical sight. 

We then packed u^i, and all fell in line, 
With orders from our (ieneral to move at nine ; 
We started then for Germantown, 
.\ place near Fairfax of famed renown. 



— 15- 



Wc arrived at last in some shady woods, 
And K<)t well supplied with sutler's goods; 
We laid here seven days, I don't think eig-ht. 
And then were ordered to another State. 

The night we started it very hard did rain. 
Which caused trouble to a regt. from Maine — 
They packed up and went to the station, 
<^\s heavy firing was heard without cessation. 

■.After marchin.r <ill night to this position. 
They found niggers blowing up ammunition; 
So, in the morning, they returned to camp, 
Very much dissatisfied with their tramp. 

When they returned we were all in line, 
The rain still coming down very fine ; 
We started out, with arms at will, 
Until we came to Drainesville, 

Where we encamped on the side of a hill, 
But as for mud we had our fill; 
To dry our clothes was our desire, 
And so we built a very large fire. 

Next morning we awoke feeling very merry. 
And then we started for Edward's Ferry; 
We arrived there carl 3- in the afternoon. 
And we crossed the Potomac very soon. 

We crossed the river on a pontoon bridge. 
And encamped for the night on a high ridge; 
Next morning for Hj'attstown we did stray. 
Passing through Barnesville on our waj-. 

We reached Hyattstown at near sundown. 
And encamped about one mile from town; 
Next morning in a drizzling rain, 
We started on our march again. 

New Market passed, and Ridgeville, 
The column kept on marching still; 
Mount Airy next was on our line. 
The corps, to here, had made good time. 

Julesburg, then, was almost in sight. 
Where we .stopped in the woods all night; 
Next morning as we laid on the ground, 
The country people came flocking around. 

To see Potomac's army they were bound. 
And hand provisions to the soldiers around; 
The ladies here, thej' done their best. 
To relieve the soldiers who were distressed. 

And when in the village passing by. 
They viewed the soldiers with a pitying eye ; 
This village was Union to the core, 
And boasted of having a grocery store. 

We left this place in the morning fine. 
And arrived at Westminster at dinner time; 
On this place General Stuart had made a raid. 
And the inhabitants were very much afraid. 

Even the ladies here were full of fears. 
But they gave each passing regiment cheers; 
Our band was put at the head of the line. 
And played some airs that were very fine. 

We halted here till each man eat his fill, 
And then we started for Bixler's Mill; • 

At the mill we remained one day and night. 
And there seemed some prospects of a fight. 



We left this mill at night, with all speed. 
Under our new comnuuidef. ("Teneral Meade; 
Out a road we marched until nearly dawn, 
And then found out that we were wrong. 

The column halted and we all laid down 
On the turnpike leading to Littlestown; 
When we aro.se, very much refreshed, 
For Gettysburg we marched our best. 

We passed Point Pleasant on our way, 
.Stopping beyond, just for a short stay; 
Of a breakfast here I would like to relate. 
But we lost it just on the line of the State. 

The way was this: We stopped to partake 
Of a meal they said we'd have time to make; 
This was all our hearts could desire. 
But we had to start again after lighting a fire. 

So again we started, all weary and tired, 
But our hearts with patriotism were fired; 
We stopped long enough our dinner to make, 
And when near Gettysburg the day was late. 

Just thirty-seven miles we came this day. 
To meet the enemy in battle arra}-; 
We rested half an hour on a hill. 
And then went in some Rebels to kill. 

We were then sent to support the Fifth Corps, 
Who were fighting twenty thousand or more; 
At it we went with a hearty good will, 
The cheer of the corps was loud and shrill. 

We arove them from behind their stone walls, 
Amid.st showers of bullets and cannon balls; 
One division was sent to the right. 
To assist the Twelfth Corps in the fight. 

This was done on the second day of July, 
And caused many an enemy to bleed and die; 
Near too was our own glorious Fourth, 
Which brought sorrow and joy to the North. 

It rained full two days while at this wall. 
The drum corps was unable to beat sick call; 
\Ve advanced on the enemy in the morning 
To try and discover signs of retreat. [fleet. 

On the head of the line they soon opened fire 
.And our brigade then soon did retire; 
But next morning early, at the break of day. 
We discovered the Rebels had all run away. 

In pursuit the Sixth Corps did quickly go. 
And the marching done was by no means slow 
Over the battle-field our course we bent. 
And skirmishers out were very soon sent. 

The field presented a heart-rending sight. 
To see so many killed and wounded outright; 
We wetit on until a large barn we did find. 
P'illed with wounded and in flight left behind. 

We kept after the Rebels as a matter of course. 
Until we came to a tavern called Black Horse; 
Here they had left some thousand or more. 
Of their companions-in-arms bleeding in gore 

It was here we crossed a very large creek. 
Where Reb. ambulances in the mud did stick; 
We kept on in the mud until near night. 
Then found our advance engaged in a fight. 



16 



Wc had ciiugrht tip with the Rd^cls' rear, 
Then all of the boys jrave a hearty eheer; 
Their \va,if()ii train in the >rap we did spy, 
And our artillery at it quickly let fly. 

All this was done in a very short time, 
And brig'ades advanced in battle line; 
This beina: done, it was very near night. 
And we all felt pretty tired after the fight. 

We advanced in the wood and there laid down 
.\bout one mile from Fairfield town; 
We laid at this place one night and daj-, 
Then after the Rebels we sped our way. 

To Emmittsbiirg we shaped our course. 
After the defeated, fleeing Rebel force; 
The city was reached after some delay, 
As the roads were miserable all the way. 

Bej'ond the city we arrived at last. 
And bivouacked in a large field of grass; 
We laid down here, and it began to rain, 
While waiting for our supply train. 

The train came up, we got our tack, 
And the weight of our haversacks cut our back 
The crackers we got were numeratively few. 
Some said si.x, but the most said two. 

We got our supplies, and then we did sally 
Down the beautiful Catoctin Valley; 
.\long it we went at a rapid rate — 
The handsomest part of Maryland State. 

The ladies, how beautiful ! God bless the fair! 
Lined the road and sang many a patriotic air; 
Some waved flags, while others sang, 
All looking out for the handsomest man. 

To hand us water was their ardent desire. 
The weight of haversacks made us perspire; 
We came to Catoctin Furnace that afternoon, 
And out of it popped a jolly old coon. 

He told us his occupation was heavy clerk; 
We talked with him and from his vest did jerk 
A plug of tobacco, which we all gave a flirt. 
He got the balance — our feelings were hurt. 

We left this place after thirty minutes rest, 
.\nd marched to Middletown, doing our best; 
It then became very late in the afternoon, 
.\nd we had to cross South Mountain soon. 

We came to Newman's Cut just at dusk, 
.Vnd over that night march we must; 
.\s we started to cross it began to rain, 
Which caused many of sickness to complaii-. 

We reached the top in the middle of the night 
.\nd laid down in a horrible plight; 
We staid there until ne.\t morning came. 
Then started off" 'midst mud and rain. 

On the road we came the mud was knee deep. 
But on our course to Middletown we did keep, 
Until we came to a very fine creek. 
Where we halted and washed our feet. 

Xear Middletown, all shivering and shaking. 
Is where we heard Vicksburg was taken; 
This caused much joy throughout the corps. 
We then got four days rations more. 



We laid near the town all that night, 
.'\nd then heard tell of a cavalry fight 
That occurred at Boonsboro', not far away — 
Thither our corps was ordered next day. 

We arose in the morning, after a good sleep, 
Cooked our breakfast — we had plenty to eat — 
Out on the turnpike our corps soon did get. 
Where we saw some flying artillery upset. 

This was done on the day before. 
Our cavalry captured eighty Rebels or more; 
Over the mountain and down a hollow, 
The Eleventh Corps we did quickly follow. 

Until we came to the centre of the town, 
Turned off'to the right and on a hill laid down ; 
This we done in strong line of battle, 
As musketry in front so loud did rattle. 

We laid here until the next day. 

Then the firing appeared to be far away; 

We left this hill at break of day 

.\nd started for Funkstown, five miles away. 

And when we reached near Antietam Creek, 
Obstacles in front of us there we did stick; 
We left the turnpike and went into a field, 
Laid down behind a knoll, ourselves to shield 

Here we supported a section of battery, 
.•Vnd done it quite easy, without any flatterj-; 
We laid here one night and day. 
Driving by degrees the Confederates away. 

Next night on picket we were sent. 
With cheerful hearts our steps we bent; 
We relieved the po.sts along the whole line, 
And reached a pleasant grove at supper time. 

We did not remain here long in suspense, 
.\s a man hurt his ankle getting over a fence, 
So back we came through fields of wheat. 
Then cooked supper and set down to eat. 

This we done in high old fashion. 
Details went full two miles for rations; 
After taking our supper we laid down to sleep 
In a large field covered with wheat. 

We arose in the morning feeling gaj-, 
.\nd after the Confederates sped our waj-. 
Passing through Funkstown we then did spy 
A hospital filled with their wounded near bj'. 

This was a most pitiful but common sight. 
To see their wounded left behind in the flight; 
We passed thro' the town at ten in the morn; 
I heard an old miller say they stole his corn. 

And then they made good use of his mill. 
For they had encamped ju.st bej'ond on a hill. 
Between town and hill Antietam creek flowed 
Where their rifle pits commanded the road. 

In the rifle pits they did not long stay. 
But marched to Hagerstown, two miles away. 
We crossed the creek and went up a hill. 
Where the corps was handled with great skill. 

Regiments deploj^ed on each side of the road, 
.\n(l l)atterics in ])osition the Rebels to goad, 
.Skirmishers sent out at the head of tlie line. 
And with the Confederates expected a shine. 



17 



Our cavalrj' all the lime closing in on the right 
And at Hagerstown had a very hard fight; 
The charged the city, as everj* one knows, 
And captured many of our Rebel foes. 

Our corps then marched to left of the town, 
The rain in torrents came pouring down, 
We still marched on in battle line, 
For about an hour or perhaps less time. 

We had not gone far before we did spj- 
Some Rebel skirmishers in a field of rye; 
Skirmishers of our corps were then sent out, 
And they very soon put the Rebels to rout. 

Advancing to the crest of the hill, 
Soon they gave the Rebels their fill; 
This being done it was very near night, 
And darkness put an end to the fight. 

Our line remained the same next day, 
In front of the Rebels in battle array; 
At night it began very hard to rain, 
And in the morning they had flown. 

When we discovered it after them we went, 
Passing through wheat fields we got wet, 
This caused us very much to shiver. 
Until we arrived at "Williamsport on the river. 

Where they had crossed two hours before, 
And then were on the Virginia shore; 
At Williamspoil reinforcements came. 
From West Virginia, through mud and rain. 

They came about two hours too late. 
To drive the Rebels from Maryland State; 
They crossed the ford right at the town. 
The river being high, caused many to drown. 

Some of their wagons in the river we spied. 
The tops of them just above the tide; 
Our corps marched to the right of the town. 
We went up a hill and there laid down 

For the night, as we all felt very tired, 
.\nd sleep and rest we all required. 
We arose in the morning after a good sleep. 
And after the Rebels right lively did keep. 

We kept on marching but had no fight, 
And when at Boonsboro' it was near night. 
Close to the village a fine creek we found. 
In which to take a swim all were bound. 

To take a swim was all our desire, 

.•\.s the marching we had made us perspire, 

We were all dirty, dusty and tired. 

And a verj' good wash we all required. 

Then passed through Middlctown on our way, 
.\nd arrived near Berlin, after some delaN-; 
We laid at this place on a very high hill. 
And the boys made a dash on a sutler's till, 

Getting his nickels, which were but a few. 
Also his condensed milk, and peaches too. 
Next morning over the river we started. 
Us and our Maryland very soon parted. 

We passed through I.ovettsvilU- on our way, 
On the aftenioon of one fine Sunday; 
The visitors here displayed the Starry Flag, 
And the corps on it three rousing cheers had. 



The men had on Bell-crowned Hats, 
Claw-hammer Coals and White Cravats. 
We kept on marching until near dusk. 
As for sleeping and eating, of course, we must 

We bivouacked here in a field for the night, 
.\nd burned a large bam for one Mr. Bright; 
This man was a Rebel, so all did say. 
He used to supply the guerillas with hay. 

We laid at this place two nights and one day. 
Then started for a place some distance away. 
We halted that evening near a stone bridge, 
.•\.nd encamped for the night on a high ridge. 

Next morning we started on our march again. 
And about ten o'clock arrived at White Plain; 
At this place one night and day we sta3-ed. 
The weather being hot while here we laid. 

Some men after berries were captured near 
By Mosby's guerillas, hovering in our rear; 
We left this place just at coming night, 
For New Baltimore marched with all might. 

We arrived at it near the break of da}', 
And in a large field five hours did stay; 
For Warrenton then we made our way. 
And arrived at it after some delay. 

The delay was caused by a swollen creek, 
And some of the men in it did almost stick; 
W^e marched right on, beyond the town, 
Into a clover field, and there laid down. 

In this field one day we staid. 
Then orders came to move our brigade 
A little further to the right of the town. 
Where the citizens on us cast many a frown. 

We encamped at this place one week or more, 
Then was ordered back to New Baltimore. 
We started for it one evening so gay, 
.\nd our brass band some fine airs did play. 

Each drum corps beat with all their might 
As the column marched out the turnpike. 
W'e arrived at this place at twelve at night, 
And laid on the grass five hours quite. 

Our breakfast we relished after this tramp. 
And about ten o'clock went into camp; 
Near a fine woods, with plenty of shade, 
.Snugly ensconced was our brigade. 

We here had to guard Thoroughfare Gaj), 
Wash, eat, lay down, and take a nap. 
One fine moonlight night, at this place. 
The guerillas thought the brigade to disgrace. 

To capture our Brigadier was their lay, 
.And carry him and his staff away 
To Riclunond, as Stoughton they took before. 
But they missed their mark and felt very sore. 

lM»r the Geniral turned out and made fight, 
.Mong with his staff, who soon put to flight 
The guerillas who came there that night. 
And where scared out of their wits, quite. 

We encamped at this place some forty days, 
.\musing ourst Ives in various ways; 
The ofticers had just completed a race tra-.': 
Haifa mile from .starting point and back. 



18 



They had not time to trj- one steed, 
As orders to move came from General Meade ; 
The day we started we had inspection, 
And our brigade passed without objection. 

In the afternoon orders came to march, 
Citizens came to camp and for grub did search 
We left this place just at sundown. 
And at nine o'clock reached Warrentown, 

Where we bivouacked until morning came, 
Then started on our march again. 
For Culpepper Court House made our way. 
Passing White Sulphur Springs on this day, 

Which was once a famous summer resort. 
And took the change of many a sport; 
Was also visited by many a southern belle. 
And no doubt paid the proprietor well. 

The buildings were verj- much dilapidated, 
And this propertj' was all confiscated. 
Here we crossed the Rappahannock river 
On a corduroy bridge, winch much did quiver 

We kept on marching with all our might, 
And came near Culpepper late at night. 
Where we laid down on the side of a hill, 
The night being cool we had many a chill. 

We arose in the morning and marched again, 
Some distance, through a drizzling rain, 
To a place on the Sperrj-ville pike, 
Without any prospects of a fight. 

We went into a wood and there encamped, 
Verj' tired after a twenty-three mile tramp, 
And here remained four days, I think, quite, 
Then removed our camp east of the pike. 

At this new camp all things were gay. 
Old Jonah his violin did play — 
In the woods we had a good dancing floor, 
To accommodate some three sets or more. 

One night at a dance there was a jollification. 
When Bitters were drank without hesitation. 
And one and all were jolly and frisky. 
As some of the boys made a raid on whisky. 

It was put up in boxes, as you must know, 
And when the boys got it, quickly it did go; 
Men were seen running around with a bottle. 
Asking their friends to wet their throttle. 

Some got drunk, now I must be frank, 
So much so the)' could not find their camp; 
Every one to plea.se his friends done his best, 
And one whole company was put under arrest 

This did not last long, as you must know, 
As orders came to the Rapidan to go; 
We started for it one Monday fine, 
And passed several corps in battle line. 

We marched thro' Culpepper with solid tread, 
.\ "Sesesher" from a window stuck her head, 
She cursed the Yanks and wished them dead, 
And the boys yelled "Dry up, go to bed." 

This woman was rank as "any other man." 
.\bout three o'clock we reached the Rapidan ; 
Our corps went here the Second to rehevt, 
Who took the place of cavalry, I believe. 



The night we arrived here I heard a man .say, 
A captain was murdered by name of McKaj*; 
He was shot while going to his tent at night, 
Supposed by a conscript, just out of .spite. 

Next morning as his body laid on the ground. 
All of his company were summoned around, 
To see if the murderer could be found out. 
As he was in the company there is no doubt. 

The oath they took was made this way : 
Their right hand on his body they did lay. 
Then in the other they took the Holy Book, 
And some of them with a tremor shook. 

But the murderer could not be found; 
He was in the regiment, I'll be bound. 
We picketed the river full one week, 
Then L,ee from Meade thought he'd escape. 

He tried to turn Meade's right flank, 
While we laid on the Rapidan's bank; 
We left at eight o'clock on Saturday night. 
For Culpepper Court House with all might. 

Where we arrived about daylight, 
Without any prospects of a fight; 
For here we rested and eat our fill. 
Just outside of the town, on a hill. 

At ten we started for Rappahannock Station, 
And before sundown was at our destination. 
Here we encamped in a piece of wood, 
Had a very sound sleep and felt very good. 

We laid at this place most of next day. 
Then recrossed the river in battle array. 
When we advanced as far as Brandy Station, 
Our cavalry driving them without moderation 

We advanced to the Station in line of battle, 
The firing of carbines in front loud did rattle. 
And the enemy here were drove out of sight. 
Darkness coming on put an end to the fight. 

We stopped in the woods and supper cooked. 
The sky from our fires verj' bright looked. 
At this place we stayed five hours near, 
Then left, as the Confeds. we did not fear. 

We then marched to Rappahannock Station; 
And from the Rebs. met with no molestation; 
So over the river we did quickly retire, 
And at daylight set the bridge on fire. 

This was a grand and splendid sight, 
To see this structure in one blaze of light: 
We then marched to Bealton Station, 
The Potomac Army — Pride of the Nation. 

Here we halted, ju.st for a short time, 
To rest ourselves, then again fell in line ; 
The buildings at this place were set on fire. 
And burned to the ground as we did retire. 

Remember, the Rebels here we did not fear. 
As our cavalry was in our rear; 
At Warrenton Junction we halted in a wood. 
Drew four days'rations; they came very good. 

We stopped here four hours for a rest. 
Then for Bristoe Station marched our be.st. 
Where we arrived, very tired and sore, 
As the miles we came were just twenty-four. 



-19- 



"We laid down here, in a field, for the nipht, 
And arose in the morning at daylight, 
Having enjoyed a good night's sleep, 
Cooked our breakfast and a hearty meal eat. 

We marched on to Manassas, then did hear 
Heavy firing, it appeared to be in our rear; 
'Twas the Second Corps with Rebs. engaged, 
They killed many and five hundred caged. 

They thought here to capture our supply train 
But the brave Warren to them .spoke plain; 
He placed a line of battle in the railroad cut, 
Which annihilated the Rebels, all but. 

This was all done without being seen 
By the Rebels, who thought it very mean. 
From their artillery they had to quickly retire 
As on it our men kept such a murderous fire. 

They ran from their pieces which were four, 
And they were captured by the Second Corps; 
Ten men from each regiment were detailed 
To drag off the pieces which the Rebs. failed. 

We kept on marching for Centreville, 
Where we halted on top of a large hill; 
Here we thought that we would stay, 
But orders came to move away. 

Just at dark we started for Chantilly, 
The country to this place being mighty hilly; 
This was a short march, but very fast. 
For we arrived at about ten, half past. 

We laid in a field the balance of the night, 
And in the morning moved across the pike; 
This was done in line of battle, 
And our men did charge and kill some cattle. 

Then details were sent to cut down trees. 
While others threw up rifle pits at their ease; 
This being done, we laid down for the night, 
But next day had some prospects of a fight. 

In the afternoon, four, I think, was the time. 
There was some firing on the picket line; 
This caused a stir throughout the camp. 
The pickets, alone, made the Rebs. decamp. 

They were guerillas, but numeratively few. 
With nothing to steal wanted something to do ; 
Next day was Sunday, the weather clear. 
But our corps was doomed not to stop here. 

On Monday we started on our march again. 
One man with sickness, did complain 
Of his ankle, the day before he did sprain. 
And wanted to ride in the ambulance train. 

To get along he tried with all his might, 
For the Surgeon said there would be a sight. 
That was providing there was no fight, 
To ride in the ambulance until night. 

We marched this day up to Gainesville, 
And of persimmons eat our fill; 
In a field we stopped, near the railroad station 
\s we heard firing in front, without cessation. 

Rebs. were disputing the passage of the Gap, 
So we laid in line of battle, and took a nap; 
We arose in the morning, just at four, 
.\nd started off for New Baltimore. 



Passing along the road to Bnckland Mills, 
We had to climb some very high hills, 
And when we got near New Baltimore, 
Some cavalrymen we seen — killed day before. 

All of them stripped of their uniforms quite. 
And they presented a most horrible sight; 
We arrived at New Baltimore that afternoon, 
And stacked our arms on a hill very soon. 

Some of the men laid down to sleep. 
While most of them went out to kill sheep; 
They belonged to a Rebel named Moorhead, 
But the men did not stop until all were dead. 

Then some of the boys did quickly see 
Some hogs belonging to a Rebel, Mr. Ogelsby. 
They also fared the fate of the sheep. 
Then we all sat down and commenced tf) eat. 

Our supper we had hardly got done. 
When orders came to move to Warrenton. 
Where we marched off to the right of the town 
And some men a building began to tear down. 

Then a man named Duffee soon hove in sight 
And put the would-be carpenters to flight; 
His appointment is inspector of the corps, 
He said of boards the j- should take no more. 

We remained here 'til the following Sunday, 
It would have been as well to move Monday; 
This was done on account of scarcity of wood. 
The camp that was picked out was very good. 

Our tents we pitched in a place so fine. 
And remained here but eleven days' time; 
While we laid here in this piece of woods. 
Details were made to unload goods 

Close by, down at the railroad station. 
And while there we had a jollification; 
The Sutler's goods came up on a supply train 
And his Plantation Bitters the boj-s did drain. 

Doing here pretty much as we pleased; 
News got around that the Sutler lost a cheese. 
That soldiers are honest, you cannot denj-. 
But bitters and cheese thf y knocked sky-high 

Next day our boys were all relieved. 
And the Sutler said he firmly believed 
The detail took all the bitters and cheese. 
And done with them just what they pleased. 

The morning we left this camp it was said. 
That Mosby on our train made a raid. 
And captured mules, in number seventy-five. 
But the guard to the emergency was alive; 

Who recaptured them all but four or five. 
Which the guerillas to keep, hard did strive; 
To them this was a vers* poor raid. 
And 1 do not hardly think it paid. 

Then to Rappahannock Station we did go, 
.\nd met some of ICwcll's Corps, our old foe; 
Skirmishers from our division were sent out. 
Who drove them back into their redoubts. 

Brigades then advanced in line of battle. 
As skinnishing in froTit so loud did rattle; 
Some regiments got ready to make a charge 
Over a field in front, which was very large, 



-20- 



T(i their rifle pits down at the river near, 
And to stick their heads above they did fear; 
This heiiifr done it was quite near night. 
And the sun on our bayonets it shone bright. 

The columns advanced to the rifle pits near, 
Then all of the men gave a hearty cheer. 
When the "Charge" was heard above the din 
You ought to have seen the Sixth Corps go in, 

To the breastworks we did quickly go, 
Capturing many of the Confederate foe, 
Who did surrender, and ncithing shorter. 
After fighting about two hours and a quarter. 

They had a pontoon bridge in their rear. 
And for it some of our regiments did steer; 
Having gained this there was no fear 
Of the balance of the brigades getting clear. 

Their guns they strewed promiscously around 
And to throw them in the river were bound, 
But this our men very soon put to a stop, 
For those engaged in it were quickly shot. 

The prisoners looked like Falstaiif's recruits. 
And were almo.st scared out of their boots; 
Some were glad at prisoners being taken, 
Others complained of their heads aching. 

Thirteen hundred prisoners taken this daj-, 
And not very dear for them did we pay; 
Muskets to the number of eighteen hundred 
We captured; also, artillery which thundered 

On our devoted division while the fight lasted 
And many a man's hopes here were blasted; 
They also lowered to us eight battle flags, 
Men never looked on such detestable rags. 

The ground red, stars white, and bars blue, 
vSuch were the banners of this traitorous crew ; 
Next afternoon over the river we did go, 
Passing a great many cabins of our Rebel foe, 

Which were plastered with mud, very tight — 
These they occupied before the last fight; 
Some of them were not quite all done, 
But we made good use of every one. 

We moved our camp to the extreme right, 
With the Hazel river fully in sight; 
Here I went on guard at a flour mill. 
And often of slap-jacks I would eat my fill. 

I awoke one morning, as j'ou must know, 
When I found out my cakes were all dough, 
For we left this morning just at six. 
And by night found ourselves in a fix. 

This was caused by the sticking of our train. 
As the roads were muddy from a former rain; 
We worked hard and large logs carried, 
And about five hours here we tarried. 

We kept on marching to the Rapidan, 

.Ml as mad as the devil, or "any other man;" 
We stopped at night in a woods on a hill. 
About one mile from Germania Mill. 

We arose next morning, it was pretty cold. 
And soon crossed the river, all very bold; 
We stopped close to the bank, on a high hill. 
Where many a man had a heavy chill. 



Then here we remained until near night, 
Then found our advance engaged in a fight; 
This was (ien. l^'rench's gallant Third Corps, 
So we had to march to their succor. 

We went into a woods, then out in a field, 
.'\nd built a breastwork, ourselves to shield; 
.•\s the lines in front had quite a livelj' fight. 
Which was stopped by the coming of niglit. 

After we had lain some four hours here, 
For Robertson's tavern we went in good cheer 
We did not go here to get something to drink, 
That for a moment I don't want you to think. 

But we went there the Confederates to fight. 
And when our corps arrived it was daylight; 
When we sat down our breakfast to eat, 
Then after the Rebels we all did keep. 

We kept on marching down the turnpike. 
When the advance of the line was in a fight; 
At this time it commenced very hard to rain. 
Which caused some of sickness to complain. 

We then marched off in a very large wood. 
And in the rain some four hours we stood; 
Then all inverted our arms in the ground. 
While the Rebs. in front were in plenty found. 

They kept up a very strong skirmish line. 
Rain still coming down all the time; 
The right of our regiment rested on a creek, 
And a bridge we built over it very quick. 

This was done to connect our line. 
And was completed before supper time; 
Next day was Sunday, and bitter cold, 
The Rebels in front showing themselves bold. 

We left this place at one o'clock at night. 
And marched some distance to the riglit, 
Where we soon prepared the Rebels to fight; 
Unslung our knapsacks to make us light. 

Then the pioneers did them all guard. 
And we carried nothing our steps to retard; 
To make a charge was our intent. 
But before we done it some men were sent 

Out front to take a view of the ground, 
Who soon returned and said they found 
A mill-race there, five feet deep. [sleep. 

Had we charged many now in death would 

As it was the cold weather we much did feel, 
The water all day in the sun did congeal; 
We laid in the woods without any fire, 
And from here at dusk we did retire 

To our old position we had left before, 

.\11 feeling verj- cold and sore. 

We laid here all the next day, 

Until it came night, then started away 

Again to cross the Rapidan river. 
The night being cold we all did shiver; 
We recrossed the river just at daylight, 
The frost on the ground showed very white. 

Here on a plank road we marched to a null, 
Then halted and of breakfast eat a .small fill; 
We started, went two miles, stopped agani, 
And in a fine woods all day did remain. 



21 



This we done in battle line, 

Keeling: lumgry all the time; 

After this we started for Brandy Station. 

To whieh place we marched with moderation. 

Having arrived here we did find 
Some of the Third Corps, who were kind 
Enougrh to give ns some of their tack. 
As they from the Rapidan were just back. 

We kept on marching to our old camp. 
And thus ended our fall and winter tramj); 
Having laid here quiet just four days, 
We then moved our camp a little ways, 



Over the Hazel river, in a fine wood. 
Where we put up cabins very good; 
We i)lastered them up with mud and moss, 
I tell you we lived good in them. "Old Hoss." 

We liave two bunks in our room, you know, 
vSpace for three above and as many below; 
Whippey, Doyle and I'hipps in the one above. 
And the'ones below they as soldiers love, 

Which is Buck, Old Man, and Little Dan, 
Thro' the winter will keej) warm if they can; 
We have re-enlisted in the Sixth Corps, 
To serve our country three years more. 



WAR TIME MEMORIES. 



^ WRITER in the Richmond Dispatch 
^'^ thus vividly refreshes many memo- 
ries of the southern people as to the "hard 
times and worse-a-coming" in the dark 
days of the war. He says : 

Our children can never know what all 
endured in the army and out in that des- 
perate struggle. I met one of Polk Mil- 
ler's old-time darkies on one of our village 
streets a few days ago. He touched his 
hat and said "Sarvant, Marster, is dis 
here de tavern?" I pointed to the hotel, 
and felt my hand reaching for a quarter 
to pay the old man for asking me the ques- 
tion. They could always ask questions, 
but never could answer them, especially 
as to distances. During the war I rode 
horseback from Richmond to Liberty, 
asking the way of every negro I met, and 
never got an answer that was worth a 
cent. They always gave as an answer 
"Tain't ftir," and then, on close question- 
ing, would say "Bout ten mile." 

I would ask another, after riding five or 
.six miles, how far the same place was, and 
he would say "Bout eleben mile." On 
approaching Farmville I wanted to spend 
the night with some friends at "Scott 
Green." and a negro told me with great 
emphasis, "Yes, sar, jes' one mile dis 
side of Farmville you turns off to your 
lef han'." "But," said I, "how am I to 
know when I am at a point one mile this 
side of Farmville." "Dat'sso," he said, 
as he took in the situatic^n, with a scratcit 
of the head, a puzzled look, and a humor- 
ous grin at his involuntary joke. 



In those days I had a jienchant for liinit- 
ing, but shot were not to l)e had. After 
the l)attles around Richmond we could 
collect or buy from the negroes lots of old 
l:)ullets, melt them down and exchange 
the lead for imported powder at the ord- 
nance department in Richmond, but they 
kept no bird shot there. Dr. Gaines, at 
whose splendid home I lived, had a black- 
smith shop at his fannHis "mill." It was 
here my inventive genius came into play. 

Hammering out my lead into long, nar- 
row bars, I would hold this into a conical 
shaped hole in one end of an irod rod, 
heated red-hot, and held over a pan of 
water. The shot would vary in size and 
shape, but many a bird, squirrel, and 
"old hyar" bit the dust under such mur- 
derous slugs. 

While discussing the merits of water- 
gas, and coal-gas, and electricity, how 
about those Confederate lights, which 
some of us shall never forget? The dim- 
mest, most trying, and yet most unitjue, 
whose glow-worm faintness still twinkles 
in my memory, was made of beeswax. 
A common cotton thread was used as 
wick. With one end tied to a chair, the 
housewife, with dainty fingers, would 
manipulate the melted wax into a small, 
continuous taper the size of her little fin- 
ger, and from ten to twelve feet long. 
Tins was coiled arountl a central u|)right 
stair ot wooil, fastenetl in a wooden dish. 
The wax candle was run through a tin 
holder, movably fixed to the top of the 
standard, and this was turned bv the haml . 



-22- 



or tlic- candle burned rapidly away. It 
was a regular eye-opener, for if you read 
too closely and forgot to keep your eye 
on your candle you would soon answer 
that old conundrum, "Where was Moses 
when the light went out?" 

Mrs. Gaines was a woman of infinite 
resources, of which all inmates of the 
family were constantly reminded. After 
a sufficient time had elapsed to distin- 
guish the multitudinous smells from the 
battle-field, she struck a bonanza in the 
shape of "tallow" buried near the slaugh- 
ter pens of the Federal army. She had 
some of it dug up and made it into Con- 
federate candles. But was it Coleride 
who wanted to know what would wash 
out the numberless smells of the city of 
Cologne? 

The waters of the Chickahominy were 
not very pure after the battles, but Abana 
and Pharpar combined could not have 
cleansed that double-action, combination 
smell from those Yankee camps and can- 
dles. She then traded the tallow to the 
soapmakers. 

Do any of your old readers remember 
our Hanover poet, Capt. Richardjohnson, 
who had such beautiful terraces and flow- 



ers in his bachelor home, where the old 
meadow bridge road turned to the left 
and led on to Hanover Court House? A 
certain "nabob," who shall be nameless, 
spent the night at the poet's house, and 
to the horror and detestation of his aristo- 
cratic host, he allowed his colored body 
servant to sleep in another bed, but in the 
same guest-chamber. The offense was 
never condoned, and several months 
afterward the venerable poet had the 
feather-bed hauled to a neighborhood 
sale. 

Putting it up at auction, he made a 
flaming speech, in which he gave a graph- 
ic description of his outraged honor, and 
told of how that inoffensive darkey, or the 
ghost of Banquo, confronted him when- 
ever he looked at the bed. And when he 
had wrought himself and his shouting aud- 
ience up to the highest pitch he closed 
with a poem, of which I remember these 
lines : 

"I've scrubbed and scrubbed, and scrubbed iu vain 
For the accursed stench will still remain, 
Not iu the bed, but in my brain." 

It is useless to say the bed brought 
double its worth, as the stench was not in 
the bed, and its fame was immortal. 



A Unique Scarf-Pin. 



STEPHEN J. WILKINS is an old sol- 
^^ dier living on West Monroe street, 
Chicago, Ills. While well-to-do he dresses 
with e.xceeding plainness, the only bit of 
jewelry or ornament he wears being a 
somewhat peculiar cravat pin which al- 
ways adorns his tie. He says he has worn 
it every day for twenty years. It is not a 
particularly handsome pin. You would 
take it to be silver turned almost black 
by natural oxidization. It possesses no 
beauty of construction or design. From 
its shape and color one would suppose 
that it was a leaden bullet that had been 
trodden under foot and rolled under wag- 
ons until it had almost lost all resemblance 
to its former shape. 

It was once a leaden bullet, but it did 
not lose its spherical form in any common 



place manner. Mr. Wilkins said he bent 
it into its present shape himself; then he 
laughs and tells this little story : 

"It was in the battle of the Wilderness 
that I bent that little bullet. I didn't do 
it voluntarily. Our company had been 
fighting all day. Comrades had fallen (.;n 
each side of me. Iseemedtobearachar:r.- 
ed existence. Suddenly I felt a sharp pain 
in my side, things began to swim around 
me, and I knew no more. When I re- 
covered I was in the hospital. A bullet 
had entered my right side and was to be 
cut out of my back by the surgeons. It 
was removed, bent and misshapen, and 
handed to me. 1 kept It, carrying it safely 
through several battles afterwards, and 
began to regard i t as a mascot, for 1 was 
never wounded again. I carried it loose 



■23- 



in my pockets for a year or two after the 
war. After my marriage in 1S67, my wife 
had it attached to a pin and I have worn 
it ever sines as a cravat pin. It isn't hand- 



some, but it isn't every man who is ablf.; 
to wear as a cravat pin a bullet that ha.s 
passed through his body." 



ARE YOU SAVED? 



VJOW, it may strike you as rather strange 
> to tumble over that question in a book 
of this sort, purporting to be about the 
war. The question is a very important 
one, and pertains to war. There is war 
all about and within you. If you have 
money it requires a battle to keep it ; if 
you have a home, some one is trying to 
rob you of it ; if you own a bicycle, horse, 
book, or anything under the sun, some- 
body wants it, and you must fight to keep 
it, so that means war. Well, you say, I 
know all that. If I did not believe you 
knew it I would not mention it. Now, 
you have a soul — will you save it or will 
you surrender it to the devil? There is 
war between God and the devil. One 
pays with happiness, the other with more 
misery ; the reward of each will never end 
if you are faithful to the end of your life. 
Right here I want to tell you my story. 
One night during the month of January, 
1S74, after both my feet had been ampu- 
tated, my room seemed unusually quiet 
as I lay there suffering great pain from the 
healing amputations and fracture in my 
left leg, I thought of my past life and how 
near I came to being wiped out, and the 
thought that if I had died my soul would 
surely be at that moment beyond redemp- 
tion, with conviction in my heart, I offer- 
ed up this little prayer: " Lord, I have 
been a bad man ; if you will help me out 
of this difficulty I will do better and tell 
the people what you have done for me." 
I commenced to improve and finally got 
well, but I did not keep my bargain made 
with God, but drifted back into sin again, 
and if you will or have read the first 12 
pages of this book you will see that the 
devil made it lively for me, so that like 
many others I tried to blame some one 
else jor my sin, such as cursing about the 
way I was abused. Manj- a man I helpetl 



and spent much money trying to find 
peace and satisfaction. Finally, when 1 
would arrive at a town, the first thing to 
enter my mind was, I wonder what kind 
of a hell I'll get into here, and usually 
soon found out, and just like many others 
tried to justify myself that there was a 
plenty of hell here on earth, and that I 
need not expect more hereafter ; but, my 
dear reader, allow me to tell you that the 
hell you find yourself in here in this world 
is only a slight intimation of what you are 
going into if you don't change masters. 
Perhaps you inquire how do I know. That 
is just what I propose to tell you — how I 
KNOW — for I am not guessing. As stated 
above, I tried by kindness to others, and 
in many ways, to overcome the evil in 
me. Why I actually quit smoking, but 
could not quit swearing. Could not get 
rid of my dreadful temper, which many a 
time I thought would kill me. Try as I 
would, I only got worse, deeper and 
deeper into the mire, and more misery. 
I often met good men, who asked me if 
I was a christian. One, a Mr. Hadley, I 
met on the Third Avenue Elevated R. R., 
in New York City, in the Spring of 1892. 
He very kindly invited me to come to the 
McAully Mission on Water Street, and 
when I got near the place I was reminded 
of my promi.se, but did not keep it. In 
the following September I met another 
Evangelist on a steamboat between Ban- 
gor, Me., and Boston, Mass. He was a 
real nice man, but I abused him shame- 
fully, and he seemed to only pity me. 
His apparent sympathy made a deep im- 
pression on me, and I wanted to apolo- 
gize to him, but did not just to please the 
devil, I suppose. So it went from one 
day to another, a little more misery, until 
at last, after suffering misery beyond the 
power of man to describe, I met a man 



24 



in Manchester, N. H.,un the 8lh of Oclu- 
ber, 1892, who wanted to know if I would 
have my feet put on in Heaven. I told 
him I could not make a living in this 
world and keep the Ten Commandments. 
He said I did not have to. Then he ex- 
plained that if I would submit myself 
wholly to Jesus, who died to save who- 
soever would believe on him, that I would 
receive a new heart, free from sin ; that 
I would be protected in time of tempta- 
tion. Never before had it been explained 
to me that I did not have to overcome my 
bad habits by my own strength. Some- 
thing I had found it impossible to do. 
The next day I went to the McAuIly 
Mission, made a full surrender, got rid 
of a load that looked to me like a moun- 



tain of blackness, and my terrible sins 
have troubled me ncj more — all my tem- 
per, hatred, envy, profanity, jealousy — 
all wiped out. I have since joined the 
.Salvation Army. Before I was saved I 
hated them all. This is promised in the 
BiVjle and so is hell, and because I have 
proved so much I believe all. Now, if 
you are saved help the Salvation Army, 
and in that way you will help others like 
I was to get this blessed salvation. If 
you are not saved are you happy — surren- 
der all to God at once and your happiness 
will be genuine and everlasting, for you 
cannot grab hold of anything in this world 
hut what will burn up. God bless you. 
Yours to win souls, 

Chas. L. Cum.mings. 



A Severe but Just Criticism. 



qA 



N editor of a newspaper in an Illinois 
town, some few years ago, took occa- 
sion to attack the G. A. R. , and in his arti- 
cle alluded to the members of that order 
as "Pestilence Breeders." The editor of 
another paper j)ublished in the same place, 
replied to him in the following very em- 
phatic manner : 

The more we j^onder over the Globe ar- 
ticle and think of the damnable (jutrage, 
the hotter we get. There is no excuse, 
no palliating circumstances ; it was a clean 
cut, deep-dyed, stinking outrage. We be- 
long to a family who were soldiers, and 
by the love of one member whose dust 
lies on the battle-field of Malvern Hill ; 
by the memories of another who spent 
thirteen months in Andersonville, and 
who is now living in Elgin ; by the scenes 
to which we were an eye-witness ; by the 
memories of the battle-field scenes when 
but a youngster, such language, such 
treatment, at such a time as this, it makes 
our blood l)oil. 

The men who lived on mule meat, and 
to quench their thirst, strained swamp 
water through army blankets to get the 
worms out, were not born to let go un- 
rebuked such an assault twenty-five rears 



later, when their tottering frames are 
nearing the grave. 

By the Gods, it is a treasonable utter- 
ance, and as such should be dealt with. 

This may be free America — it is — but 
freedom of speech does not necessarily 
entitle the press to such villainous assaults 
upon men who saved the country. 

Men who soaked their hardtack to get 
the maggots out of it before they ate it ; 
men who lived on such fare and plodded 
Southern swamps, all for the love of the 
old flag, are entitled to more respect .-it 
this late day. 

Men who roasted and ate sow-belly that 
would have been declared an abominable 
dish to set before a hog, are not deserving 
of taunts and slurs at this stage in the 
game. 

If the men who lie buried in Southern 
soil ; if the long rows of nameless graves 
in Andersonville, Murfreesboro, Nash- 
ville, Libby, and other National Ceme- 
teries, North, South, East and West; if 
they could speak ! But few are left, — a 
million are buried. The little remnant 
now journeying on to the grave, some 
legless, some armless, some bowed down 
by disease contracted by long marches 



-25 



and scanty fare, some living a living deatli 
because of chronic complaints contracted 
in rebel prisons — these men are undeserv- 
ing of such thrusts. 

Men who fought for the old flag and 
saw their comrades buried like pestilence 
stricken hogs at Malvern Hill, Antietam, 
Rich Mountain, Stone River, and so on, 
those men should not be called "pestil- 
ence breeders." 

Men who, for the love of the old flag, 
sacrificed home, happiness and relatives, 
and came back after five years' bloody 
fighting, with shattered constitutions, are 
not the men to be stigmatized as "pestil- 
ence breeders." 

Men who participated in funerals where 
the ceremonies consisted of taking a dead 
comrade by the limbs and throwing him 
into a trench with piles of an unrecogniz- 
able mass of humanity that had been 
mowed down by rebel shell and mus- 
ketry, those are not the men that an 
American people should allow to be call- 
ed "pestilence breeders." 



Twenty-five years and o'er have elapsed 
^ince the last groan was heard on the battle 
field, over twenty-five years since the gory 
scenes were enacted, but there lives not 
an old soldier to-day, who does not carry 
in his mind's eye vivid paintings of those 
charnel fields ; the blood is still fresh, the 
moans of the dying still ring in their ears, 
and to-day, as they recount the vicissi- 
tudts of war, many are they who shudder 
at its tragedies, many are moved to tears 
as some heartrending incident is cited. 
All that is left to them besides these mem- 
ories is their shattered and maimed bodies 
and the old flag, yet not one of those brave 
fellows but loves, yea! reverences it. "If 
any man attempts to haul down the Amer- 
ican flag shoot him on the spot," will pass 
into history with the odor of sanctity 
round it. For all time to come "Yankee 
Doodle," "The Star Spangled Banner," 
"The Union Forever" and "Home, .Sweet 
Home" will inspire the people of this the 
proudest Nation on God's earth. 



Volunteers vs. Regulars. 



■p\URING my whole service in the army 
it was always thrown in my face by 
the regular officers that I had no technical 
military education. That meant that I 
had not been to West Point Now a West 
Pointer, if he graduated very high, never 
was employed in the army in managing 
troops until our war. He was simply as- 
signed to public works, generally of a civil 
description, until he was fifty years old at 
least. If he graduated in the next grade 
he was to command a battery of artillery 
until he was about the same age, except 
a few of them who served in the Mexican 
war. If he graduated in the next grade 
he was to command an infantry company, 
and they were so few and scattered that 
he got near fifty before he ever com- 
manded a company of them as a rule, and 
very few of them got to be captains be- 
fore they were fifty years old, and except 
against tlie Indians they never acquired 
any experience in the field. The lowest 



rank was to be a lieutenant of cavalry. 
So, with the exception of the Mexican 
veterans, there were no West Pointers at 
the breaking out of the war who had had 
any experience in the field. But during 
the Rebellion all was changed. It was 
assumed that West Point officers knew 
the whole art of war, and were ready- 
made generals. McDowell was only a 
major in the regular army when he fought 
the first battle of Bull Run, and had had 
no experience with troops. A few — but 
not too many — of those officers read mili- 
tary books. It is wonderUd how soon this 
claim of theirs burst out after the war com- 
menced, and even then how little ambi- 
tion for fighting these men had. 

I was sent as major general commantl- 
ing to Fortress Monroe on the 22d day of 
May, 1 86 1, and I was told by General 
Scott that I was fortunate in having there 
some sixteen young officers who would 
aid me in organizing troops. Now, if 



2& 



those sixteen young; men, ten had rela- 
tions with General Taylor, who was com- 
missary general of the army, and they at 
once got detailed to positions in the com- 
missary department, where they could 
buy pork and beans for the army, which 
was thought to be a very soft place. Four 
of the others got detailed into the quar- 
termaster general's department, where 
tliey could buy mules and hire steamboats. 
Two more of them got into the adjutant 
general's department, where they sat at 
desks. 

There were three or four older officers 
who had been in the Mexican war, who 
retained their commands in the line and 
took their chances in battle. Now, I am 
not saying one word against those young 
men, but I am only showing to w^hat — for 
some of them afterwards were on my staff 
and served well — an education at West 
Point brought the ambition of its pupils. 
It was not the fault of the men, but of the 
system. 

The claim to that superiority, because 
they had a regular education, broke out 
not always in the most private manner. 
Sometimes it was discussed before me 
how superior all West Pointers were to 
volunteer officers. 

I thought I would put a stop to that, so 
I invited some of the officers to a dinner 
party at my headquarters with some of 
my personal staff who were volunteers. 
1 believed that at that dinner party some 
discussions might be renewed, so I called 
Captain Haggerty, of my personal staff, 
a very bright young lawyer, and told him 
t(j go to the library and read the descrip- 
tions of one or two of Napoleon's famous 
battles, naming Marengo, and to ascer- 
tain the pivotal point or movement upon 
which the battle turned, so as to be able 
clearly to tell me what it was when I asked 
him. 

We all came to the dinner in a very 
pleasant mood, but between one or two 
of the officers, regulars and volunteers, 
the discussion broke out and became 
quite animated, and I feared it would go 
so far that it might become necessary lor 



the general to take notice of it. The claim 
was very loudly made that nobody could 
be fit to command troops who had not 
been to West Point I never had been 
there except to examine the institution, 
as a member of the board of visitors, hav- 
ing been appointed in 1857 by Jefferson 
Davis while Secretary of War, for my sup- 
posed military knowledge as a civilian. 
I at that time held the title of brigadier 
general, and was met there by General 
Scott, who reminded me that he was the 
oldest, as I was the youngest, general in 
the United States. 

I knew the young gentlemen at the table 
meant no harm, but I thought it was well 
enough to give them a little lesson. 

I said : "You gentlemen of the regulars 
can doubtless give me, a volunteer gen- 
eral, some information by answering a 
question. Can any of you tell me the 
movement of Napoleon at the battle of 
Marengo which was the one upon which 
he wholly relied for his success in that 
famous battle?" 

They looked one to the other and the 
other to the one, but nobody replied. I 
then turned to Captain Haggerty, who sat 
well down the table among the regular 
officers, and said : 

"Captain, can you answer that ques- 
tion?" 

"Yes, General, I think I can." 

•'Then explain to us what that battle 
was?" 

Haggerty gave a very exact account of 
it, and I said : 

"You see, gentlemen, it will be conven- 
ient during this war to have some volun- 
teer officers along with us, so that if we 
get into a like predicament with Napoleon 
we shall have somebody who knows what 
was done under like circumstances." 

The conversation was not renewed. In 
due time we separated, and the question 
of the military superiority of West Point- 
ers was never discussed in my hearing by 
Uiat set of officers afterwards. 

— (Jen. Buller. 



-27- 

The Gravback. 



[At the 2ist anniversary of Forsyth Tost, Toledo, 
O.. Gen. I. R. Sherwood made the following re- 
spouse to the subject assigned him, " The Volun- 
teer," being a part of a lecture on " Reminiscences 
of the War," which he has promi.sed for several 
soldier Campfires the coming season.] 



Say, comrades of the old war days long gone, 
Do yon remember, while yet fresh from home, 
When in the night the campfire light was low, 
And dreams of home and peace would come 

and go? 
Do you remember how you cursed and raved. 
When on the 'broidered shirt your sweetheart 

gave, 
You caught in active act, with open maw, 
The very first grayback you ever saw ? 

Comrades, an age, it seems, has passed away 
Since on the fields of war we met the gray ; 
The plow, the harrow, and God's grasses 

green 
Have blotted fort and earthwork from the 

scene ; 
The hymns of peace and joy are ringing loud 
Throughout the land where once hung pall 

and shroud. 
And honor sweet uplifts her snowy hand 
And beckons onward to a fairer land ! 
And yet while memories of the past come 

back 
I feel the grayback crawling up my back ! 

I see the mountain-tops of Tennessee ; 

I breathe the ozone air at reveille! 

When under Burnside, back in sixtj'-three 

We waded rivers, climbed the Cumberland ; 

And wrested Knoxville from a hostile band! 

The mountain-sides are flecked with fleecy 

cloud. 
That hang upon the summits like a shroud ; 
The trees are bright in scarlet, gold and green. 
Tinged with the Autumn frosts in brilliant 

sheen! 
Here men with beards white as the mountain 

snow. 
And stalwart maidens in their frocks of tow. 
Came forth to greet us in their royal right, 
And kiss the stars upon our banner bright. 
And while we lay upon that mountain-side 
And saw the empire of our hopes and pride, 
I'd given all I had that very minute 
For one boiled shirt without a grayback in it! 

I see old Kenesaw turn heavenward now. 
With big-mouthed cannon on her serried 

brow I 
I hear the muskets rattle down the slopes! 
I hear great thunders answering in the copse! 
I see grim death .stalk in the valley, where 
The sweet magiiolia perfumes all the air ; 
I see the shouting men in staggering lines 
Where grape in swarths sweeps thnmgh the 

shattered pines! 
I see great gaps made by the fearful shell ! 
Our flag go down! 1 hear thj rebel yell ! 
.•\nd yet beneath each soldier's blouse of blue. 
Ten thousand gniybacks charge, and claw, 

and chew i 



The battle's earthquake shocks thev heeded 

not! 
Awed by no shrieking shell or blistering shot; 
While roaring cyclones breathe their awful 

power. 
The grayback paused not for a single hour ! 

And when at length the hot June days had 

passed. 
And proud Atlanta fell to us at last. 
And we looked l)ack acrcjss a hundred days 
Of skirmisli, fight, and scorch and battle 

blaze ! 
While all the N'ortli were booming us with 

praise ; 
When Sherman issued orders for a rest — 
That every soldier in new blue be dressed ; 
When blouses torn and pants without a seat, 
And shirts, with si.vty graybacks in each pleat, 
Were made into a bonfire — far from f'weet ! 
It took just four days of that Georgia sun 
To hatch a new crop, fiercer than the old one ! 

And now I lie beneath the August night : 
While dying embers glow of campfire light I 
I see the shining stars in silver bars * 
Wink calmly o'er the sleeping field of Mars. 
There is no cover save the steely sky , 
There is no music but the nighthawk's cry I 
Yet, as I gaze into the mellow moon. 
I feel the grayback in my pantaloon ! 
I feel him in my shirt, upon mv neck ! 
His griping grij) upon my starboard deck ! 
I cannot sleep, I cannot rest at all. 
For his omniverous bite and omnious crawl ! 

And now, at last, we tramp the old Xorth 

State, 
We stand crowned heroes at the golden gate 
Of glorious peace ! Farewell to war's alarms I 
The Blue confronts the Gray with grounded 

arms ! 
The Stars and Bars go down, and never more 
In this fair land, on hill-top, sea or shore 
Will that flag wave again ! And then and there 
Grant swung his victor eagles, bright with 

flame 
Into the grateful air of peace, — and fame 
Wreathed laurels green with his immortal 

name ! 

Two armies lay asleep — the Blue, the Gray ; 
And side by side ! Sweet peace had come to 

stay ! 
The grayback, too, was there, ten million 

strong ! 
He knew no North, no South, no peaceful 

song ! 
.\nd by the firefly's flash, the last tattoo. 
He clawed and chawed, the same he used to 

do! 
The same among the Gray as in the Blue ! 
Only for every one of Blue, 'tis true. 
The prostrate Johnnies had a pair — or two I 

Oil, cruel, bloodful chum of awful war. 
Of soldiir ills the most pe>liferous. far ; 
Oh, crawling, creeping, clawing, biting pest, 
Of cam]) and bivouac, the bane of rest ! 



28 



Oh, nasu- jjnat of niillioti hatching-powL-r I 
Born but to crawl atul bite throujii^li every hour 
Of a tired soldier's life I It cannot be 
That I shall ever live too long to forget thee! 

Why were ye made with that terrific maw? 
Why were ve born with that infernal claw? 



Why were ye sent a soldier's life to mar 
In the damp night bivouacs of cruel war? 
To sit on Glory's brow and leave a scar ; 
To cree]}, and crawl, and suck heroic blood — 
And die between two thumb-nails' devilish 
thud ! 



Anxious for the Order to Retreat. 



^ BIG blustering fellow enlisted in an 
^^ eastern regiment and was very anx- 
ious to get to the front so he might dis- 
tinguish himself and wipe the enemy off 
the earth. The regiment was assigned to 
the Army of the Potomac, and before he 
had learned how to fry hard-tack — first 
soak them in water until soft, then fry 
them in a frying pan, (such as soldiers car- 
ried when they were fortunate enough to 
get one, over a quick fire made of some 
unfortunate farmers' fence rails,) thor- 
oughly saturated in bacon fat. Yimi ! 
yum ! good old bacon fat will make any 
veteran's mouth water — in describing how 
to cook hard-tack I nearly forgot my new 
recruit. His company was ordered out 
on the skirmish line ; the men deployed 
among the scrub oaks and advanced to- 



ward the brow of a hill. When the Cap- 
tain was away in the front directing the 
movements of the men, there came a 
plaintive voice from the rear crying "Cap- 
tain ! oh, Captain!" then a little louder 
"Captain !" The Captain turned back to 
see what the trouble was, when the re- 
cruit inquired where are we going ; the 
reply was given that we are going out on 
the skirmish.line. They had not gone far 
before firing commenced, and soon the 
Captain heard the same plaintive call. 
Turning impatiently to order the man for- 
ward into his position, he first inquired 
of him "What do you want?" The new 
soldier said he merely wanted the Cap- 
tain to not get too far in the front, so he 
could not make himself heard when he 
ordered the men to retreat. 



Christmas Eve in the Armv. 



rnhe Army of the Potomac is in winter 
[ quarters. Scattered over the hills 
and valleys at Falmouth, Acquia Creek, 
Belle Plain and elsewhere, covering a terri- 
tory of several square miles, can be seen 
the winter camps. 

Here a brigade of infantry has taken pos- 
session of a wooded vale, and as far as 
the eye can see there are lines of regunen- 
tal and company streets, laid out with 
mathematical precision. Trees have been 
felled and cut into suitable lengths and 
Ijoth sides of the streets are lined with log 
luits, seven or eight feet square, covered 
with canvas roofs, each with a small door 
in front, while in the rear is a mud and 
stick chimney, generally surmounted by 
an empty barrel to increase the draft. 

These houses are of almost as many 
varying degrees of elegance and comfort 



as the houses of a town, and are a good 
index of the skill, ingenuity and industry 
of their occupants. And so with their 
furnishing. The bunks, beds, seats, fire- 
places are all camp made ; some neatly 
and some shiftlessly constructed. In some, 
shelves have been put up ; walls papered 
with Harper's or Frank Leslie's ; tin cups 
and plates shine ; a pocket mirror, brush 
and comb are conveniently hung ; a few 
good books are on the shelves ; a bright 
fire is glowing and an air of comfort per- 
vades. ' ' 'Tis the night before Christmas. " ' 
The thermometer is nearly down to zero ; 
the ground is covered with snow which 
creaks and glistens in the moonlight, re- 
minding the boys of Christmas in their 
northern homes. There are other re- 
minders. Christmas greens and holly 
bi-rries adorn both the inside and outside 



-29- 



of many tenements. Christmas trees are 
in front of many a door. The sutler's 
train has arrived overland from Washing- 
ton and the sutler's tents are full of Christ- 
mas goods. Pies, ginger cakes, cheese, 
doughnuts, crackers, canned goods, to- 
bacco, cigars, pipes, paper collars, black- 
ing, toilet soap, watches and chains, re- 
volvers, playing cards, whisky in bottles 
to be sold on the sly, and a miscellaneous 
assortment of notions dear to the soldier's 
heart but dearer to his pocket, crowd the 
sutler's shelves and the intermediate 
space. Nor is this all. For weeks the 
mothers, sisters and friends at home have 
been preparing boxes to be sent to the 
boys at the front. They have come by 
express to Washington free of charge, ow- 
ing to the generosity of the express com- 
panies, and from thence Uncle Sam's mail 
steamers have brought them down the 
Potomac, and the quartermaster's mule 
teams have brought them into c imp. For 
two or three days they have been arriving 
and to-day the last and largest installment 
was received. 

Almost every boy has his box and is 
busy inspecting its contents. Roast chick- 
ens and turkeys, mince pies and Christmas 
plumb puddings, handkerchiefs, gloves, 
mittens, neckties, jellies and jams, home 
made bread, everything eatable, drinkable 
and portable ; everything that a fond 
mother or loving sister can imagine will 
minister to the comfort and pleasure of her 
soldier boy, has been sent without stint. 

One has a present of a new fiddle, an- 
other has received his old banjo, with an 
invoice of the latest army songs and new 
mu.sic books. There are Sunday School 
hymns for pious ones and sentimental bal- 
lads for those whose tastes lead them in 
that direction. 

There are backgammon boards and sets 
of chessmen, Victor Hugo's latest novel, 
" LesMiserables" and other books in 
great variety. There are souvenirs and 
keepsakes which will be of little use to 
the recipients, and which look strangely 
out of place in a soldier camp ; but they 
are none the less prized, for they come 



with a mother's blessings and a sister's 
love. Most highly prized of all are the 
pictures of dear ones at home. In mother's 
face are lines of care and anxiety and 
sorrow that shall deepen till the war closes 
and her boy returns, if it be so ordered — 
if not they will never disappear. Sister's 
face has grown mature and womanly very 
fast during the stress of war, and there 
are little ones — baby faces on which are no 
traces of sorrow or lines of care. 

Laughing eyes and dimpled cheeks that 
bring rays of home sunlight straight into 
hearts that have not been thus cheered in 
well nigh two years. Of men and boys 
who during all that time have not eaten a 
meal prepared by woman's hand nor heard 
the tones of a woman's voice, except per- 
haps, of a hospital nurse. Who during 
all that time have seen no household nor 
heard the prattle of children's voices ; and 
though they give small thought to the 
mother and child at Bethlehem, their souls 
go out with a great longing to their homes 
in the north, where mothers keep watch 
and baby brothers and sisters nestle in 
their cribs this Cliristmas eve. 

During the last eight months they have 
met the legions of Lee and Longstreet 
and Stonewall Jackson in a dozen battles. 
They have stood amid shrieking shells 
that drowned the whizz of minie-balls, 
and seen comrades by scores drop dead 
at their sides, or torn limb from limb by 
exploding shells ; and have not been 
moved as they are by these miniature 
baby faces. But quick are the transitions 
of a soldier's moods and feelings. The 
two or three occupants of each tent hav- 
ing fully examined their treasures are ofT 
to the next ; and so they go from tent to 
tent, inspecting the contents of each oth- 
er's boxes and tasting each other's eat- 
ables and drinkables. 

They sample all the mince pies and 
fruit cakes until they are full to repletion. 
Some of them add various drinks of sut- 
ler's whisky and of better grades which 
have come from home. 

They pufTnew pipes filled with Turkish 
tobacco and test all grades and qualities 



-30 



of cigars. Turkeys, chickens, pigs' feet, 
head cheese — everything is fish that comes 
to their net. He with the new fiddle joins 
him with the old banjo, and they are joined 
by another who has received the gift of a 
new set of castanets of the most approved 
minstrel show pattern. They play the old 
walk around : 

•• will you, will you, fight for the Union, 
Will you, will you, fight for Uncle Sam," 

while some of the other boys take the steps 
and join in a regular breakdown. 

But hark? Off on the hill sounds a 
cavalry bugle and soon another and an- 
other takes up the refrain. The drum- 
mers beat the "tattoo" and in a few 
moments it will be " taps " and all must 
"bunk in" and every light must be out. 

The demands of military discipline are 
inexorable and cannot yield even to 
Christmas eve. And so they hasten to 
\heir quarters and are soon in bed. But 



not to sleep. They are too full of llioughts 
of home and friends and of mince pie and 
plum cake for that. They lie through the 
long hours of the night in silent reverie. 
The Christmases of long ago pass in re- 
view and with them all the scenes of their 
childhood. Occasionally they talk with 
their bunk mates in subdued tones and 
again try to sleep. As the stars begin to 
pale and a faint flush appears in the east 
they drop off into dream-land, a sort (;f 
troubled nightmare sleep, wherein the 
scenes of their childhood are strangely 
mingled with the experiences of camp 
and battle, until gradually they sink into 
a deep lethargy, only to be broken by the 
gruff voice of the orderly sergeant: "Com- 
pany turn out to roll call," and as 

they go stumbling out half dressed and 
more than half dazed into the frosty morn- 
ning air, a dozen voices in unison give the 
glad old greeting " Merry Christmas." 



Discipline Maintained. 



PAPTAIN J. was a brave officer, and 
\ a good disciplinarian, generally speak- 
ing, but he was of a nervous temperament 
and somewhat eccentric. He had a mania, 
for instance, for roll-calls. I have known 
him to have no less than nine roll-calls of 
a morning before breakfast. Anything 
out of the common or any whim that struck 
him was sufficient excuse for calling his 
company into line. For example, seeing 
pieces of "soft bread" littered about the 
company street, he shouted, with custom- 
ary impulsiveness: "Fall in. Company B!" 
The men fell in and the roll was called. 
Then the captain referred to the fragments 
ofsoftbread, windingup with : "Don'tlet 
me see any more of this waste — make a 
mighty good pudding — without doubting; 
right face, break ranks, march !" In a 
half hour's time or less the men would be 
commanded to fall in again for another 
roll-call on some other and less vital mat- 
ter. The story was current in " B" that the 
company was called out one day tliat the 
captain might ask which man owed him 
ten cents ; but this, I suspect, was an e.\- 



aggcration, if not a pure creation, though 
it was implicitly believed throughout the 
regiment. 

Captain J. had command of the grand 
line on one occasion, and at the post 
which he made his headquarters were a 
sergeant and a half dozen men. The post 
was in the village of Fall's Church, and 
the men were given strict orders against 
interfering with private property. But 
soldiers are but human, and it was not 
long before they discovered some very 
plump chickens. What followed may be 
imagined. Early next morning one of 
the "loyal" inhabitants presented him- 
self to the captain with a grievance. His 
fattest chicken had disappeared during 
the night and feathers had been discovered 
just outside the picket post. The circum- 
stantial evidence was strongly against the 
Union soldiers. Captain J. was indignant. 
The men were ordered into line and the 
roll was called. Then the captain lec- 
tured the men on the sin of chicken-steal- 
ing and concluded by ordering that every 
man's haversack be searched for missing 



31 



poultry. The haversacks went through 
the ordeal triumphantly. Not so mucli 
as a feather was found in any one of them. 
Captain J. gave a sigh of relief and the 
complainant was forced to acknowledge 
that his suspicions were unfounded. 

At dinner that day, the Captain found 
a plump, juicy chicken, finely roasted, 
awaiting his attention. He looked at the 
bird, sniffed its aroma, and was about to 
dissect it ; but the instinct of the officer 
deterred him. Addressing his black ser- 
vant, he demanded : 

"Horace, where'd this chicken come 
from ? ' ' 

"Gothim outer your haversack, Cap'n." 

"Out of my haversack?" 

Captain J. looked down at the chicken, 
and then his eyes sought the heavens. 
Then he laid down his knife and fork, 
sprang to his feet, and called out, "fall 
in ! " Again the inevitable roll-call. 

"Who put that chicken into my haver- 
sack " ? he demanded, in severe tones. 

The men exchanged glances, a smile 
passed down the line, but there was no 



response. Again the demand in some- 
what milder accents, for the fragrance of 
roast chicken was in the air. Finally the 
servant spoke up. "Captain," he said, 
"we are all in it. We thought a bit of 
poultry might be good for you for a change, 
and as your haversack happened to be 
handy, we just put the bird into it." 

Captain J. called up a serious face, but 
that chicken did have a tempting smell. 
The lines of his countenance gradually 
relaxed intoa smile. "It was a wrong thing 
to do," he said, "a very wrong thing; 
but now that the chicken is cooked — and 
it looks and smells like a good one — it 
would be wicked not to eat it." And eaten 
it was, and every man had his share. But 
at the roll-call wnich followed — f believe 
he would have halted his company in the 
midst of a charge, for a roll-call — Captain 
J. again animadverted upon the oflfense 
of plundering non-combatants, and finish- 
ed his homily by remarking: "I shall 
hang my haversack in the same place to- 
night. Right face ! break ranks, march." 



The Company Cook. 



rnHE new regiment reaches the army. 
I The arms, equipments, tents and ra- 
tions come along promptly. Our letters 
to and from home, with rare exceptions, 
found us. On one occasion, when a pair 
of boots was sent singly, but one came, 
and the missing boot in a few weeks was 
replaced by another from home, when lo! 
the straggling cowhide came also — three 
boots for two feet ! The express com- 
panies, even, would bring our boxes as 
far as the situation would permit. The 
sutlers followed us almost as persistently 
as the fleas. So that the background of 
army life was not less active and as nec- 
essary as the chivalrous front. My ser- 
vice, with the exception of a few weeks, 
was confined to the society of a musket 
and from forty to eighty rounds ; yet I 
deem no man a bummer who went as or- 
dered, staid where he was put, and per- 
formed the duties of tile detail. 1 am not 



a hero, never was a hero, never intended 
to be a hero ; but I have seen heroes and 
heroines in the hospitals, in the wagon 
trains, in the pioneers, and even in service 
under the provost officers. 

In my company was a man past sixty. 
He was a well known character when our 
boys' mothers and their beaux danced the 
long nights out and went home in the 
morning. Ziba Cleyes was an excellent 
country fiddler, with an ear for music be- 
yond the scope of his rosin. Ziba stood 
next to me when our last inspection (pre- 
vious to U. S. acceptance) occurred. The 
Inspecting Surgeon said to him : " How 
old are you, sir?" "Fifty four," replied 
Ziba. "Openyourmouth." Zibaopened 
a cavernous grub receptacle, fairly glis- 
tening with perfect teeth. "Put you finger 
in there. Doctor," he said The Doctor 
smiled and jiassed on to the next. I doubt 
if the old man luul an eiienn in tlie world, 



— 52 



and I believe that his motives for enlisting 
sprang from a true national pride. While 
in camp at Acquia Creek, or near Stafford 
C. H., the lirst winter out, some fifteen 
or twenty of our officers resigned and 
quite a number of the men deserted. 
Blue-toned letters from home, and blue 
news from the army, together with much 
sickness among the new troops, made 
rather blue life in our soldier huts. But 
among the few whose back-bone remained 
firm was old Ziba, our Company (G) cook. 
When rations were slow he was patient, 
and when a growler was dissatisfied with 
his pork rations, he would coolly suggest 
that no man had a right to find fault with 
Uncle Sam for giving him better than he 
was accustomed to at home — for as a rule 
of such were the growlers at the cook's 
tent. 

Ziba had his violin, and after the duties 
of the day were over, the dreariness of 
our dull street was most happily enlivened 
by strains from the region of his hut. 
" Arkansaw Traveler," " Money Musk," 
"The Old Woman who Sat on the Hay 
Mow," or "Virginia Reel," came to our 
ears as something from home. Yet, when 
the cooks left their boiling kettles of meat 
for Stonewall's gray-coated men at Chan- 
cellorsville, they also left their personal 
effects, and that violin was captured to- 
gether with the sick man, Brockway, who 
had it in charge, and the life of Company 
G was not until Uncle Ziba was again 
equipped for stag dances and an occa- 
sional breakdown at some house in the 
neighborhood where a bit of calico was 
to be found. 

On the long march to Gettysburg, the 
old man and his helper, Pat Matthews, 
trudged along, bearing on a pole between 
them the "pottery" of Company G, and 
when we reached the fight and lay beneath 
the shelling behind the battery of our bri- 
gade, Old Ziba, too nearly played out from 
our hurried march to go himself, sent old 
Pat to us with fresh water. There we lay, 
each shell that exploded over us making 
us dig our noses deeper into the moist 
soil. Boys, you all know how it was. 



" Pat ! I say, Pat ! " calls his brother Jim ; 
"lie down, you divil." "Which?" says 
Pat. " Don't you hear the shells, Pat?" 
queried Jim, excitedly, his own head go- 
ing up and down as the reports occurred. 
"Divil do I care for them, anyhow. B'ys, 
duz yez want any wather, any of yez?" 
And I can see him now, the brave old 
fellow, standing up in that unscreened 
cornfield ; four hundred and fifty men (lat 
in the July growth of trampled grain, and 
Pat with the kettle passing among the 
boys, who were so thirsty. And Pal 
walked to the rear ; he did not run. 

Again, on Morris Island, when tlie 
shells would cuff the sand in all directions, 
Ziba and Pat would be sure to have Com- 
pany G's soup brought up hot and the 
tops of the kettles well covered to keep 
out the sand. 

"Old Zibe," as we called him, was in 
his element at Ferdinanda, Fla., and 
Georgetown, S. C, where contrabands of 
the tender sex were plenty and break- 
downs possible. It was there he seemed 
lost in past memories, and the vigor of 
his youth, and the same old inspiration of 
time, tune and turnabout, as fifty years 
before, were upon him. Then his jolly, 
quiet laugh, as he told, in his deliberate 
fashion, of the tarheels, dresses, attitudes, 
flings, gestures and general flavors of the 
plantation dance. 

Did I admire Uncle Ziba? I did — his 
better traits. And as they outnumbered 
and out shone his weaknesses, I may say 
that I not only liked him, but I respected 
him. Well posted in general matters, a 
man who had read a great deal, a good 
scholar of his day and an excellent writer, 
he would have honored many high stations 
that were filled by his inferiors. I often 
talked with him as with a father, and he 
treated me accordingly — not only me, but 
many others, as he was not partial among 
us. But long marches told on the old 
man, and at such times our boys relieved 
him as well as they could. On one forced 
march under a hot Florida sun, I tcok 
from him his kettle, and after carrying it 
a few miles passed it to another. When 



-33- 



we reached camp, near midnight, I carried 
him Ills kettle, and he told me how much 
the boys had relieved him, and he fre- 
quently mentioned this little circumstance 
to me after. 

Old Ziba now musters on the other side. 
He has been dead many years. He was 
poor — too kind-hearted to make money. 
But he will be remembered as long as any 



of those men live who ate of his cooking 
or drank of his brewing, smoked before 
his tent, or stepped off to the tune of his 
bow. Rest, then, in peace, old friend! 
The flowers of our thoughts shall decorate 
thy memory and thy name shall stand 
enrolled among those who served their 
country faithfully and well. 



Getting Out of the Army. 



/qNK of the earliest tricks practiced on 
the surgeons to secure a discharge 
was to be taken down with rheumatism. 
Unless the soldier was too sharp he stood 
a pretty fair chance of gaining his end in 
time. A bad case of inflammatory rheu- 
matism would reveal itself to the surgeon 
at once, but in case a man pretended to 
be sore, lame, and almost helpless, there 
was no telling whether he was a fraud or 
a sufferer. The wise soldier didn't go be- 
yond a certain limit in his helplessness. 
He was just helpless enough to escape all 
duty, and lie around until it was believed 
that he would never be any' better, and 
that it was wisdom to discharge him. 
He might be six months securing his end, 
but it was pretty sure to come. There 
were three cases in my regiment where 
men jjlayed this dodge on me and got 
their discharge. Each one of them had 
been helpless for months, and yet they 
had not been discharged more than a 
week before they were all as active as 
any one. The soldier who was suddenly 
taken with inflammatory rheumatism, 
either had a genuine case or his hypocrisy 
was soon exposed and he was returned to 
duty. 

Now and then a desperately homesick 
man resorted to the expedient of losing 
Iiis voice to secure his discharge. It was 
not long before every surgeon was " on " 
to this scheme, and very few men could 
play it successfully for any length of time. 
We had in our regiment a private named 
Alanson White, who first tried the rheu- 
matic dodge to secure his discharge. He 
was sent to the hospital to be treated, and 



seemed to suffer considerable pain, and 
to have the symptoms of inflammatory 
rheumatism. On the third day of his stay 
he received a letter to the effect that his 
wife had lost |2oo of the money he had 
sent home by lending it on poor security. 
He was so excited and indignant that he 
rushed up and down the ward, swearing 
and cursing, and finally dressed himself 
and walked four miles to camp to talk the 
matter over with the boys. His cure was 
instantaneous. Three months later he sud- 
denly lost his voice. I suspected trickery, 
and after diligent inquiry learned that he 
had gone deliberately at work. He had 
held his feet in ice-cold water in order to 
catch cold, and as if that was not enough 
he had exposed himself to a soaking rain 
for several hours and let his clothes dry 
on him. He got a cold, and after cough- 
ing for several days he began to lose his 
voice. In a week he could not speak 
above a whisper. I sent him to the hos- 
pital with instructions that he be watched. 
He anticipated this, and set himself at 
work to beat us all. 

Several surgeons examined White's 
throat very thoroughly, and it was the 
unanimous verdict that nothing ailed him. 
In a week he was over the cold, but he 
doggedly asserted that his voice was gone, 
and it was no use to return him for duty. 
We then conspired to betray him. One 
day, as he sat outside the hospital build- 
ing in the sun, smoking his pipe, one of 
the nurses was ordered to pass near him 
with a pail of water and bring about an 
accident. This he did, and White was 
suddenly doused with three or four quarts 



— 34 — 



of water. He gave a great jump, out did 
not yell out, as we had anticipated. On 
another occasion his chair was suddenly 
pulled from under him, but nothing more 
than a grunt was the result. At another 
time, by what seemed altogether to be an 
accident, a pistol was discharged at his 
ear, but the fellow uttered noe.xclamation. 
He had set his mind to the idea that he 
had lost his voice, and waking or sleeping 
he was determined not to be betrayed. 

We held three or four councils over his 
case, and at length we hit upon a scheme 
that was successful. It was given out 
among other convalescents that White 
was to be discharged, and, of course, the 
news soon reached his ears. The fact 
that he had gained his point, or was about 
to, would naturally e.xcite his exultation 
and render his sleep more or less restless. 
One night before going to bed the con- 
valescent next to White began to tell 
stories of snakes, tarantulas and centi- 
pedes, and how such reptiles had been 
found in his bedding in Texas before the 
war. The bite of a tarantula he assured 
White, felt like the application of fire. 



and it was seldom that a victim recovered. 
He worked on White with such stories 
until the man went to bed with his mind 
full of reptiles. He occupied a bed at 
the extreme end of the ward, and next to 
a window. It was an hour before he fell 
asleep, and then he was uneasy and evi- 
dently bothered with bad dreams. By 
and by the head nurse of the ward care- 
fully approached with a lighted cigar. 
With his free hand he cautiously uncovered 
one of White's feet, and the cigar was 
touched to his big toe. The result was 
astonishing. With a seriesjof .screams that 
awoke every patient in the ward. White 
leaped out of bed, and as he danced up and 
down he called at the top of his voice : 

"Get the doctor, quick! I've been bit- 
ten by a centipede ! " 

Such was his excitement that it was two 
or three minutes before he realized that he 
had betrayed himself Then he owned 
up like a man to the facts, expressed a 
desire to become a more worthy soldier, 
and was returned to his company to be 
wounded and honorably discharged a 
year later. 



Sheck's Pension. 



Sheck was his name, and he was an old 
colored man in a Kentucky town. He 
had seen some service as a soldier, and 
in his later days he did odd jobs for a live- 
lihood. One morning he was building a 
fire in the judge's office and was grunting 
a good deal over it. 

"What's the matter, Sheck?" inquired 
the Judge. 

"Rheumatiz, boss," he groaned. 

"By the way, weren't you in the army?" 
asked the Judge. 

" Yessir." 

" You don't get a pension, do you?" 

" No, sir, boss." 

" Didn't you get that rheumatism in 
the army." 

" I spec 1 did, boss," responded Slieck, 
grasping the new idea with promptitude. 

"Then you ought to have a pension." 

" Neber thought about hit befo', boss." 



"Well, we'll think about it now, Sheck, 
and the Judge went to work and before a 
great while Sheck was getting ^8 a month 
from Uncle Sam, and a happier man didn't 
live than he. But Sheck was only human, 
and that 18 a month began to lessen in im- 
portance as he grew familiar witli it. 
One day, several months after he had 
been a pensioner, he was working about 
the office and complaining loudly. 

"W^hat's wrong, Sheck?" asked the 
Judge. 

" Dist year blame rheumatiz, boss," 
groaned Sheck. 

"I thought it had left you." 

" ' Deed hit tain't, boss," whined Sheck. 
" Hit's twicet ez bad ez hit ever wuz." 

"What's the cause of it?" 

"'Deed I dunno, boss, 'ceptin' 'tis dar 
penshum oughter be twicet ez big ez hit 
am," and Sheck got an increase. 



-35- 

How an Arm was Lost. 



" No, sir, I didn't lose that arm in battle. 
I lost it while playing the fool," said 
Major John Leonard, of St. Louis, as he 
looked regretfully at his empty sleeve, 
then swung into line with the story tellers 
at the Laclede. "It was shortly before 
the battle of Shiloh. I was out prowling 
around, looking for fat pullets or anything 
else that would give the mess kettle a 
savory odor, and finally found myself near 
the Confederate lines. A long, gaunt 
Tennesseean, evidently on picket duty, 
stood leaning against a tree reading a 
newspaper. He appeared deeply en- 
grossed, and I chuckled as I thought what 
a rich joke it would be to sneak up within 
easy range and plug him. 

"I began to sneak. The ground was 
wet, covered with briers, and I crawled 
for fully 200 yards, ruining my new uni- 
form to play my little joke. The Johnnie 
kept on reading. He had evidently not 
seen me. I stopped to hug myself before 
I rose up to my hellish work. I took good 
aim and let fly. The sentry never moved 
— ^just kept on reading. That made me 
hot. I reloaded and blazed away again. 
He never budged. I kept up a fusillade 



for half an hour without result; then I 
got so mad I couldn't stand it any longer. 

" I was not a little proud of my marks- 
manship, and to have a large, loose jointed 
enemy of my beloved country stand up 
there in his butternut breeches and calmly 
absorb the news while I was chucking 
lead at him at a distance of 500 yards was 
too much for me. I reloaded, marched 
up to within 20 paces of him, took de- 
liberate aim and blazed away. He kept 
on reading I clubbed my musket and 
made a mad rush. I whacked him over 
the head with force enough to kill a church 
scandal, then reversed and jabbed my 
bayonet into him. It was a dunmiy. 

"I started to lose myself in the direc- 
tion of camp when there came a shriek 
of demoniac laughter from a clump of 
hazels to my left, and three big Tennes- 
seeans stepped out to incercept me. Sur- 
render? Not much. I was mad enough 
to fight the whole southern confederacy 
single handed. I made a rush for 'em, and 
they turned loose, relieving me of this arm 
and breaking both legs. But I licked the 
dummy. One of my captors told me that 
they shook a pound of lead out of it." 



Corporal Jack. 



rnHERE were ten of us youngsters in 
I the company " G " squad which Cor- 
poral Jack marched forth to drill, and the 
()\c\ man's face wore a fatherly smile as he 
kept calling : 

" Hay foot — straw foot — right face — left 
face — front." 

If he had a home — a wife — children — 
we did not know. We wondered if he 
had left anybody behind who would mourn 
if his life went out on the field of battle; 
but he never talked of sucli things. He 
had a way of putting us otT when we be- 
gan to question of the past. We believed 
that some dark cloud rested over his life, 
and we agreed among ourselves that it 
was a mystery which must be held sacred. 
To the men he was stern and dignified ; 



to us boys he was so kind and gentle that 
we grew to look upon him as a father. 
It was Corporal Jack who cured the blis- 
ters on our feet ; who laughed our home- 
sickness away ; who took part of our loads 
away when the knapsacks galled our 
backs. 

When he counted us after Hull Run and 
found that three of his ten boys had been 
left dead on the field, we missed him for 
a time. When he returned to us his eyes 
iiad the look of one who had been weep- 
ing. Later on, when companv "G" 
swung into the slashing timber at Wil- 
liamsburg, and men went down by twos 
and threes under the fire of sharp>iiooters, 
it was Corporal Jack who whispered to 
each one of us : 



36 



"Steady, my boy ! I wmildn't have you 
give ground now for the world ! Move to 
tlie riglit a bit — ^tliat's it — keep covered if 
you can." 

I remember how the' Hght of battle 
blazed in his eyes that day as he faced the 
enemy, and how that light was changed 
to one of unutterable sorrow as we an- 
swered our names at night-fall and only 
six "ayes" were heard. The seventh 
lay dead in the timber, with the whippoor- 
will uttering its sad night-call in the 
branches above him. 

As we came intt> battle line at Mechan- 
icsville there was a look of pride in Cor- 
poral Jack's eyes. His boys had grown 
to be soldiers. Our faces were no paler 
than those of the sturdy, middle aged 
men further along the line. As we knelt 
beside the log breastworks and opened 
fire, I heard the Corporal saying to him- 
self: 

"Good! That's it ! Just see how cool 
they are." 

We broke line after line of the gray as 
they advanced upon us, but by and by we 
were forced to yield. A bit of shiver ran 
along the lines — the first symptoms of a 
l")anic — but the old Corporal was close at 
liand to say : 

' ' Steady, now ! Fall back in good order! 
We are not beaten, but only falling back 
to a stronger position." 

The head of the company broke back 
— the centre fell into confusion — our end 
of the line simply shivered and then be- 
came as firm as a rock. We knew not who 
liad come out alive — who had been killed 
— until the old Corporal gathered us under 
his wings, as it were, long after darkness 
liad shut down, and in a broken voice said : 



"There are but four of my Ixjys left, 
and I cannot sleep !" 

After the fierce tempest of war had past 
over the fields and forests of vSavage 
Station there were only three of us. Cor- 
poral Jack bent down over the fourth, who 
lay dead in a pool of blood, cut off a lock 
of his hair, and said, as he reverently 
placed it in his pocket : 

"This is for his mother, whose heart 
will be breaking over his loss ! I pray 
God the rest of you may be spared !" 

After Glendale there were but two of 
us. We toiled wearily over the highway 
with the stars shining above us and the 
sullen crackle of musketry in the rear. 
Corporal Jack marched with us, but for a 
long time he was silent. At last he said: 

"Only two left! After to-morrow — 
what!" 

At Malvern Hill he would have been our 
breastwork to receive the bullets. Dark- 
ness was falling, and we had broken and 
hurled back the lines of Magruder again 
and again, when a move by the left flank 
had somehow separated the three of us. 
There was a fierce and deteraiined ad- 
vance — a fierce and desperate resistance, 
and night shut down and the roar of battle 
died away. I went out with those who 
succored the wounded and mourned over 
the dead, and I found them — Corporal 
Jack and my boy comrade. They were 
side by side and dead, but in his dying 
moments dear old Jack had thrown an 
arm over the poor boy, as if to shield and 
save him. 

Truly, those were the days when men's 
hearts ached and women's tears could not 
be dried. 



Wanted to Get Away. 



it. WAS at the battle of Gettysburg, when 
the bullets were falling like hail, and 
the shells were shrieking and bursting 
over our heads in a way to make the 
bravest heart tremble, a private dropped 
out of the ranks and skulked back to the 
rear. He was well under way when, un- 



fortunately for him, he was met by Gen- 
eral Slocum, who was going to the front. 

"What are you doing here? Get back 
to your command," the General shouted. 

The poor fellow stopped still and trem- 
bled like a leaf, but made no reply. 

"Get back to j'our post, you miserable 



37 



coward; aren't you ashamed t)f yourself 
to be skulking back here when you should 
be in the front with your brave comrades?' ' 

Still the man made no reply, but com- 
menced to cry like a year old infant. 

"You sneaking coward," shouted the 
infuriated General, "get back to vour 



company ; I'll ride y<ni down like a dog. 
Why, you are nothing but a baby." 

"I-I-I'll t-t-t-tell you what, General," 
said the blubbering fellow, "I'd g-g-give 
anything just n-n-now, if I wasab-b-baby, 
and i-i-if 1 had my c-c-choice I'd r-r-rather 
be a female b-b-baby." 



Couldn't Go Further. 



^ CONFEDERATE soldier, after the 
^^ battle of Antietam, and when his 
regiment was on the retreat, threw his 
musket on the ground, seated himself by 
the roadside, and exclaimed with much 
vehemence : 

"I'll be dashed if I walk another step ! 
I'm broke down ! I can't do it !" And 
he sat there the picture of despair. 

"Git up, man !" exclaimed the captain, 
"don't you know the Yankees are follow- 
ing us. They will get you, sure." 

"Can't do it !" he replied. "I'm done 
for. I'll not walk another step !" 



The Confederates passed along over 
the crest of a hill and lost sight-of their 
poor dejected comrade. 

In a moment there was a fresh rattle of 
musketry and a renewed crash of shells. 
Suddenly he appeared on the crest of the 
hill moving along like a hurricane and 
followed by a cloud of dust. As he dash- 
ed past his captain, that officer yelled : 

"Hello! thought you wasn't going to 
walk any more." 

"Thunder," replied the soldier, "You 
don't call this walking, do you!" 



A Soldier's Bible, Almanac and Common Prayer Book. 



.sJl PRIVATE soldier by the name of 
®^ Richard Lee was taken before a mag- 
istrate for playing cards during divine ser- 
vice. It appears that a sergeant com- 
manded the soldiers at the church, and 
when the parson had read the prayers he 
took the text. Those who had Bibles 
took them out, but the .soldier had neither 
Bible nor common prayer book; but pull- 
ing out a pack of cards he spread them be- 
fore him. He just looked at one card and 
then another. The sergeant of the com- 
pany saw him, and said, "Richard, put up 
the cards; this is no place for them." 
"Never mind that," said Richard. When 
the service was over the constable took 
Richard before the mayor. "Well," says 
the mayor, " Wliat have you brought the 
soldier here for?" "For playing cards in 
church." "Well, soldier, what have you 
to say for yourself?" "Much, sir; 1 
hope." "Very good. If not I will pun- 
ish you more than man was ever pun- 



ished." " I have been," said the soldier, 
"about si.x weeks on the march. I have 
neither Bible nor common prayer book, I 
have nothing but a pack of cards, and I'll 
satisfy your honor of the purity of my in- 
tentions." And spreading the cards be- 
fore the mayor, he began with the ace : 
"When I see the ace it reminds me there 
is but one God ; when I see the deuce, it 
reminds me of the Father and Son. When 
I see the tray, it reminds me of the Father, 
Son and Holy Ghost. When I see the 
four spot it reminds me of the four evan- 
gelists that preached : Matthew, Mark, 
Luke and John. When I meet the five 
it reminds me of the five wise virgins 
that trimmed their lamps — there were ten, 
but five were wise and five were foolish 
anil were shut out. When I see the six 
it reminds me that in six days the Lord 
made heaven and earth. When I seethe 
seven it reminds me that on the seventh 
day He rested from the great work 



38 



Ik- Iijul treatfd and halUiwed it. When 
1 st-e the eii,dit it reminds nie of the eight 
riy;iiteous persons that were saved wlien 
God destroyed the world, viz : Noah and 
his wife, with three sons and their wives. 
When I see the nine it reminds me of the 
nine lepers that were cleansed by our 
Saviour ; there were nine out of ten who 
never returned thanks. When I see the 
ten it reminds me of the Ten Command- 
ments which God handed down to Moses 
on the tablets of stone. When I see the 
kinii' it reminds me of the King of Heaven 
which is God Almighty. When I see the 
(jueen it reminds me of the Queen of Sheba 
who visited Solomon, for she was as wise 
a woman as he was a man ; she brought 
with her fifty boys and fifty girls, all 
dressed in boys apparel, for King Solomon 
to tell which were boys and which were 
girls. King Solomon sent for water to 
wash ; the girls washed to the elbows and 
the boys to the wrists, so King Solomon 
decided by that. "Well," said the mayor, 
"you have given a good description of 



all the cards e.xcept one." "What is 
that?" "The knave," said the mayor. 
" I will give your honor a description of 
that too if you will not be angry?" " I will 
not," said the mayor, "if you do not 
term me to lie the knave." "Weil," said 
the soldier, "the greatest knave that I 
know of is the constable that brought me 
here. " " I do not know, " said the mayor, 
"if he is the greatest knave, but I know 
he is the greatest fool." "When I count 
how many spots in a pack of cards, I find 
three hundred and sixty-five, as many 
days as there are in a year. When I 
count the number of cards in a pack I find 
there are fifty-two, the number of weeks 
I find in a year, and I find four suits, the 
number of weeks in a month. I find there 
are twelve picture cards in a pack, rep- 
resenting the number of months in a year, 
and, on counting the tricks, I find thir- 
teen, the number of weeks in a quarter. 
So you see, sir, a pack of cards serves for 
a Bible, Almanac and Ct)mmon Prayer 
Book." 



General Lee's Tribute to the Private Soldier. 



rnHE narrator hereof knew the late Gen- 
i eral Lee well and passed through the 
war close by him. So far as he knows 
the following brief and, perhaps, not very 
amazing war story is the only war story 
tliat he ever told. It is certainly the only 
one that the recounter, who heard him 
tell it, ever did hear fall from his lips. 

Lee was never a great talker except 
under one condition, and that was when 
he had young ladies to entertain, for then 
his natural gallantry got the better of him 
and he wasacharmingcomj^anion, though 
not what might be called loquacious, and 
he did not care to talk of the war, pre- 
ferring to choose other topics. It was in 
camp, however, that he so far yielded to 
the desire of a couple of fair visitors as 
to spin a yarn. He had invited two young 
ladies, cousins of his, to dine with him, 
,ind it was to them and at their persuasion 
that he told the story of the "Two Con- 
federate Scouts. ' ' 



Carefully arranging his napkin on the 
table in front of him and sitting perfectly 
erect in his chair, as was his custom. 
General Lee said: "When this war is 
over you will hear a great deal of praise 
given the leaders of the armies, and in 
the attempt to do them honor the private 
soldier will to a certain extent be over- 
looked. This is unfortunate, since some 
of the noblest and most daring deeds of 
the war were done by privates on both 
sides. 

" I was once in absolute need of positive 
information as to the movements of the 
enemy. My regular scouts were out, so 
I had to select from a regiment of men 
who were familiar with the section of the 
country, if nt)t with their mission. Two 
able-bodied and intelligent men were sent 
me to whom I entrusted the dangerous 
task of crossing the river and going into 
the neighboring village to ascertain from 
stragglers the coveted information. They 



-39- 



made the trip sllcc(^ss^lllly and returned 
the next noon, not only with the facts, but 
with the traps and effects of four Union 
soldiers, which they obtained in a manner 
creditable to the coolest and bravest men 
of either army. 

"After ferreting out the secrets of the 
enemy, they started on the return trip, 
but were detained by a terrific rain-storm 
of several hours duration, which forced 
them to shelter until night. When they 
reached the river they found, to their 
chagrin, that it was too much swollen to 
be crossed in a canoe, and the only thing- 
left was to make a bed of the pine tags on 
the ground and sleep until morning, when 
they would proceed unmolested. But 
they had reckoned without their host. 
The enemy's pickets, who had also been 
driven to shelter by the rain, were out 
early next morning investigating, and, 
seeing fresh tracks, suspected something- 
wrong. Five of them started on the trail, 
plain in the soft earth, and soon came 
upon the sleeping scouts. Feeling con- 
fident of having their prisoners secure, 
they thought to have some innocent fun 
with them and proceeded to jab them in 
the back with the points of their bayonets 
and reques<^ them to come in out of the 
rain. 

"'Hello, Johnny, wiiat are you doing 
sleeping out here in the wet like this? 



\<>u will take cold. Come on with us out 
of the damp."' 

" liut the sleeping Confederates could 
not be aroused, and the sentinels had a 
big laugh over it, particularly so when one 
of them would turn partially over and 
groan out "Oh stop that ! What are you 
poking me for? It isn't time for reveille 
yet," as if he thought he was in his own 
camp safe and sound, [ust in the midst 
of their greatest outbreak the scouts, with 
the agility of wild animals, sprang from 
their couches and with their pistols shot 
down the two front men, then as quickly 
dropped the other two as the fifth man 
hastily retreated, leaving his gun behind 
him. 

"When the scouts heard the Federal 
squad advancing on them they were too 
close to admit of retreat, so they resorted 
to strategy and feigned sleep, arranging 
between them that at a given signal both 
should rise and fire on different men, tak- 
ing them so by surprise that the others 
could be shot also before they could get 
their guns up. The trick worked per- 
fectly, and to it those men not only owe 
their necks, but the valuable information 
for headquarters and four good Snider 
rifles and warm overcoats. 

" I do not believe that any deed of 
the war surpassed this in coolness and 
braverv." 



The Colonel would not be Outdone. 



rnHE other day I was entertained l)y a 
1 story about General Cogswell, repre- 
sentative of the Salem (Mass.) district. 
Congressman Henderson, of Iowa, re- 
counted it : 

"General Cogswell," said Henderson, 
"was a great soldier, and, by the way, was 
the youngest colonel on the Federal side. 
He became a brigadier in time to make 
good company for Sherman, as he jour- 
neyed through Georgia. However, that 
is not my story. Cogswell was colonel 
of a very famous regiment, the Second 
Massachusetts. He was decitledly proud 
of it, too, and took more delight m it than 



a mother does in her offspring. At one 
time Cogswell's regiment was brigaded 
with a regiment from Michigan, also a 
crack regiment, and a great rivalry fell 
out between them. To tell the truth. 
Cogswell's regiment had the better of the 
competition. One day a wave of religion 
struck the Michigan crowd. We'd been 
stationed some time atone place and the 
chaplains had begun to get in their work. 
When st)ldiers are marching or fighting 
every tlay religion never seems to take 
nnuli iiciid on them; but make a camp 
for a month and let muddy currents of 
life settle a little antl it is verv different. 



-40- 



At this particular time a regular revival 
broke out in the Michigan regiment. The 
colonel himself was given that way, and 
you could always find as many hymn 
books as decks of cards about his head- 
quarters, and as he rather led this return 
to a better and a brighter life many of his 
boys naturally fell in and followed. Cogs- 
well's regiment, on the other hand, was 
decidedly a perverse and stiff-necked gen- 
eration. If there was any religion in that 
regiment it was a great secret and none 
of us ever knew it. One day while the 
Michigan revival was at high tide an offi- 
cer was talking to Cogswell about it. 

"'Do you know, Colonel,' he said to 
Cogswell, *I understand eleven of those 
Michigan fellows are going to be baptized 
to-morrow?' 

" 'The deuce they are !' said Cogswell, 
full of scorn and incredulity. Then he 
fell to jealous rumination thereon. He 
thought he detected a scheme to outdo 
his brave Second Massachusetts. He 
determined to thwart it. That evening 
on dress parade he addressed his regi- 
ment. He told them of the Michigan 
regiment and how eleven of them were 
going to be baptized in the river next 
morning. 

"'Now, boys,' said Cogswell, and his 
voice trembled, 'the Second Massachus- 
etts can't stand this. We've outfought, 
outmarched and outdrilled these Michi- 
, gan men and can repeat all of these sol- 
emnities any day in the week. They 
know it, too, and so they try to make a 
mean, sneaking detour, as it were, and 
give us the go-by in religious matters, 
thinking to catch the Second Massachus- 
etts where it isn't at home. Now, boys, 
if I were to ask for volunteers to charge a 
battery of siege guns or to just march 
calmly out and die there would be but 
one response. Every man but the sutler 



would step forward on the instant. To 
save the honor of the regiment, then, 
when, it is so insidiously beset by these 
people from Michigan, I now call on you 
for an unusual sacrifice. And boys,' 
continued Cogswell, in tones of deepest 
feeling, ' I don't want you at this crisis in 
the career of a great regiment, to whose 
undying fame we all have contributed our 
blood, to weaken or hang back. Eleven 
of our rivals are to be baptized to-morrow 
morning, and I now call for twenty-five 
of my brave fellows to volunteer to also 
be baptized. We'll see their eleven and 
go them fourteen better.' 

"The line hesitated and the men looked 
doubtfully at each other. At last one of 
them addressed Cogswell for further and 
fuller light. 

"'Are you going to be 'mersed, too, 
Colonel?' he inquired. 

" ' I will never,' said Cogswell,' shrink 
from a peril to which I invite my men. 
Should the Colonel of this Michigan regi- 
ment attempt any trick of personal bap- 
tism, I, too, will go. Should he baptize any 
of his officers, officers of equal rank in the 
Second Massachusetts will be there to 
uphold the honor of their regiment. As 
the story comes to me now, it would seem 
as a first play these people meditate only 
the baptism of eleven privates, and so it 
rests with you, my men, to say whether 
at this juncture their plot shall succeed, 
or whether, with twenty-five brave volun- 
teers for this special duty, we will retain 
our proud prestige as the crack regiment 
of this brigade and the unmeasured su- 
perior of this particular outfit from Mich- 
igan. 

"The twenty-five volunteers stepped 
promptly forward, and Cogswell issued 
an order to the chaplain to baptize them 
at the same time and place with their 
hated rivals." 



lyi ANY humorous incidents occurred on 
battle-fields. A Confederate colonel 
ran ahead of his regiment at Malvern Hill, 
and discovering that the men were not 
following hs closely as he wished, he ut- 



tered a fierce oath and exclaimed "Come 
on! do you want to live forever?" The 
appeal was irresistible, and many a poor 
fellow who had laughed at the colonel's 
queer exhortation, was killed soon after. 



41 



The Old Army Cracker. 



r^URING the Peninsula campaign, the 
bread had become inhabited by a 
very lively species of insects of a brown 
color and amiable disposition. Various 
stories are told of the crackers in camp, 
some of which, no doubt, are malicious 
fabrications. One was that the insects 
were purposely put in the bread to save 
mule transportation; one that when the 
commissar}"^ wished to transport the bread 
he simply whistled and it came itself ; an- 
other was, that four ofthese crackers were 
seen on battalion drill one evening going 
through the evolutions with great precis- 
ion. One of the boys had a lot of bread 
so thickly settled as to be untenable, and 



took it down to the commissary to be ex- 
changed, he was told to lay it down and 
take some others, when he very honestly 
asked " Hadn't I better hitch 'em?" In 
many camps, early in the war, the hard 
bread was wholly unfit to be eaten, and was 
cherished by the men as a rare curiosity 
and was by many sent north as a proof of 
what they had written concerning it. One 
lot was marked thus : " Pilot Bread — Bos- 
ton, iSio." In many of the camps of the 
Army of the Potomac, we were informed, 
a few of the boxes were branded as fol- 
lows : "865 B. C," and this could not re- 
fer to the lumiber of the box for each one 
was numbered also. 



'Let 'em Wave.'* 



rnHE following hit on an old captain in 
1 Connecticut is too good to be lost, 

so we give it to our readers: 
An old veteran, rather grim and gray. 
Scolded his buxom wife one day, 
Because some things that babies wear, 
Were swinging in tiie front yard air. 
He said he thought the better place 
Was in the shady back yard space. 
Since garments of that make and kind, 
Had best be always kept behind. 
She only smiled to be thus blamed, 



And asked him why he was ashamed 

To see the Patriot's loving sign 

Hang gracefully from their own clothes 

line. 
"How Patriot's, madam," cried the man ; 
"Really, I do not understand?" 

" Ha ! ha !" laughed the wife, 
Her face free from care, 
"That's the Flag of our Tnion 
Waving there !" 
P. S. — Then they kissed and made up 
and the captain said : " Let 'em wave." 



The Ration of Corn Meal. 



rriHE year 1863 was an eventful one for 
I the Army of the Potomac, and of all 
the events of that eventful year, the one 
that occupies the most prominent place 
in my recollection is "Mush Day." 

Chancellorsville may bo forgotten, and 
the memory of Gettysburg may become 
dim. but never "while reason retains her 
throne," can I forget the day when the 
Army of tne Potomac, or at least that 
part of it to which I was attached, had 
nothing to eat but mush. 

"But shtop a leetle, and 1 told yon all 
about it." It was not long after our le- 



turn to Virginia from the Pennsylvania 
campaign ; we were doing duty along the 
line of the Orange and Alexandria Rail- 
road, and were drawing rations from day 
to day. 

Some of the medical fraternity who 
"tented" in Washington city, dined at a 
hotel, ate spring chickens and cussed the 
waiter if a fly got on the butter, con- 
ceiv-.'d (and unfortunately for us, brought 
forth) the idea that tl.e health of the army 
would be much improved by a change of 
diet, ar.d that corn meal would be the 
most desirable agent to enii>loy in bring- 



42 



iiig about tliis happy result ; consequent- 
ly, the order went fortli that a day's ra- 
tions of it should be substituted for one 
of fat pork, beans, etc. 

I don't know how it was with other 
regiments at this time, but in ours the 
only cooking utensils we had were our 
quart tin-cups and a few frying-pans, 
which some ingenious soldier had made 
by melting the solder around the seams 
of the canteens, which caused them to 
come apart, then they stuck them on a 
cleft-stick, and there you were, a long- 
handled frying-pan. But extra canteens 
were scarce, and it was only a fortunate 
few that had them. 

Cooking mush is a very simple opera- 
tion when you have all the conveniences 
and don't have to do it yourself; and if 
you don't like it when it is cooked you 
can let it alone, and go to the cupboard 
and get a hunk of bread and cold beef 
instead. Under these circumstances it is 
a very desirable dish ; but when you have 
no conveniences but those described 
above, and there is no sutler within ten 
miles of camp, and you have already for- 
aged so successfully that in all the sur- 
rounding country there is not a cow, pig 
or chicken, and the few people who live 
in the house are so short of provisions 
that they would be glad to have the meal 
of which you are the unfortunate owner, 
it is no easy matter to cook your mush — 
and you must either cook it, eat the meal 
raw or go hungry. 

"Necessity is the mother of invention," 
it is said, and many a queer invention was 
gotten up that day, but they were, for the 
most part, disastrous failures, involving 



the loss of the j^recious meal and leaving 
nothing for the unfortunate experimenter 
to do but grin and bear it, as best he 
could, until the next day. 

About a dozen of the boys watched the 
operations of the rest of us until they were 
satisfied that it would be wasted labor for 
them to try to cook their share, so they 
resolved themselves into an iirdignation 
meeting, and appointed a committee to 
take their combined stock to some neigh- 
boring house and trade it off for a dog, 
or even a cat, if they could do no better, 
and then report to the meeting. 

The committee did as directed, and 
after a time returned with a small, half- 
starved dog, which they had secured in 
exchange for their meal. 

A resolution was then offered and car- 
ried that the dog be christened, giving it 
the name of the medical dignitary by 
whose order the corn meal had been is- 
sued, and that a court be convened to try 
him on the charge of treason ; the speci- 
fication being that he had caused the 
order to be issued in the interest of the 
enemy, expecting him to attack us while 
we were so weak with hunger that we 
could neither fight nor run, and be com- 
pelled to surrender, and the war would 
be decided in favor of secession. 

The court met, the offender was tried, 
found guilty, sentenced to be hanged, and 
the sentence duly carried into effect, after 
which the meeting broke up. 

That was the first time I had corn meal 
issued to me as a ration, and I am happy 
to say it was the last while I was in the 
service, and I am sure all the "boys" will 
sav Amen ! 



Surrendered Six Times. 



(.1 .SURRENDERED .six times in one 
day during the war," said Dr. Thos. 
S. Hawley. "It was at Holly Springs, 
Miss. I was with the Union troops, and 
was making my headquarters with a resi- 
dent physician. The family was a very 
hospitable one, but there \s as one daugh- 



ter, about nineteen years old, red headed, 
and a regular little spit-fire, and a rebel 
through and through. 

When the Confederates mai.le their raid 
on the town they took us b\ surprise. I 
was in bed, and was awakened by the 
discharge of guns. I got up and dressed, 



43- 



and in the early mornine; light soon saw 
our boys coming into town from the out- 
posts. I noticed one poor fellow, badly 
wounded, hobbling along the road, and 
took him to the house. I carried him up 
stairs, put him in my bed. and gave the 
best attention I could to his wounds. 

While I was engaged in this work, my 
host called me down stairs, saying "Vou 
are wanted." I knew what this meant. 
I went down and met a Confederate offi- 
cer, who demanded that I surrender. I 
did so, and explained that I had a wound- 
ed man in the house who needed my at- 
tention. The officer very courteously 
paroled me on the spot. It seems, how- 
ever, that the red haired little rebel was 
mad because I had brought the wounded 
Yankee into the house, and she was de- 
termined to make trouble for me. She 
told some other Confederate officer that 
I was there and he very promptly took 



me prisoner. He came at me with drawn 
sword and said: "Surrender, sir." 'I 
have surrendered," said I. 

I again explained, and was paroled and 
returned to my patient. This surrender 
business was repeated until six different 
Confederates had taken me prisoner. Mr. 
Sixth Captor was a private, a boy about 
eighteen years old, and he rushed in the 
house with his musket leveled, and seem- 
ed determined to shoot. I have always 
had a suspicion that the girl put him up 
to it. I tried to explain that I had already 
been paroled five times, but it was hard 
work to get him to listen to anything. 
He kept yelling at me to surrender, and 
made me stand with my hands high in 
the air while I made my explanation. I 
believe he would have shot me but for 
the interference of my host and some Con- 
federate officers who happened to come 
along. 



The Army of Wooden Legs. 



af iQE HAVE the names of about 18,000 
^^ veterans who have applied for re- 
pairs," said Mr. Ramsey, who has charge 
of the artificial limb department of the 
surgeon general's office. "You know we 
fit them out with new sets of legs, arms, 
or other apparatus every five years. It is 
now getting toward tlie close of one of 
these periods, and we have repaired about 
14,000 veterans." 

"Aren't the one-legged men dying oflT?" 
"Now, that's an interesting question. 
I guess they are. I presume many of those 
whose names we have here, have since 
died, but I can't tell certainly. Now, as 
I have said, every five years we recon- 
struct the maimed veterans of the army, 
but they have their choice to take the re- 
pairs or the money. Tlic allowance for 
a leg is seventy-five dollars, for anything 
less than a leg it is fifty dollars. From 
one period to another many old veterans 
drop out. Some of them make one or 
two applications and then we never hear 
from them again. Naturally, we conclude 



when they don't send for their money or 
legs they must be dead, and have no more 
use for them. But we don't limit our- 
selves to men who have actually lost their 
limbs. A man who has simply lost the 
use of his limb is entitled to a wooden leg 
or arm, as the case may be, though he 
can't wear them. So, you see, we can't 
keep a record of all the one-legged men ; 
but I guess there are not as many as there 
used to be. Yet there are lots of them, 
and many who haven't any legs at all, 
and some with neither arms or legs. Then 
there are many who have not lost their 
limbs, but have no power to move. There 
is one man who gets two arms and two 
legs allowance, who cannot move any 
part of his body. There is another, a 
New England soldier, whose arms and 
legs are dead, and who is blind in both 
eyes. Not long ago a man came in here 
with no arms, and sat down at one of the 
desks and wrote with his teeth. It was 
not jiarticularly fine writing, but you could 
read it. 



-44 



"Hut you ask iftheyaredyins^ofi". Now 
liere's a roll we are just completiiiij," and 
lie laid several tally sheets on his desk. 
"You can see how they run. This is the 
fifth period, and here's a man who has 
gotten five legs and five arms, quite a 
number for one man, if he used them all 
at once. And here is another who has 
gotten five legs and five arms. No, we 
don't furnish heads, but we supply parts 
of hands, jaws and sections of the skull 
and eyes. Now, here's a man who got 
one leg in the first period and has never 
gotten any since. He is probably dead. 
But, here is another who came in for re- 
pairs just after the close of the war, and 
was never heard from again until now, 
when he comes up again ; he didn't wear 
out very fast. Some men wear well, and 



don't bother about getting repaired so 
often. And here's another, who comes 
up for the first time, having done without 
his limb all these years. It runs this way 
all through. Those men who have not 
applied for their fifth leg, or whatever it 
is they want, we conclude must be dead." 
"What are the legs made of?" 
"Willow wood generally, and there are 
a variety of styles. They can take their 
choice. Some take the straight stick and 
stumj) it through life. Some legs have 
rubber joints and rubber feet. There is 
one made with a very fine ball and socket 
joint at the foot. There are many men 
with wooden legs whom you would never 
suspect. There were several officers of 
high rank who came here for their arms 
and legs." 



Governor Curtin and Secretary Stanton. 



/f\N the files of the War Department, 
^^ ex-Governor Curtin of Pennsylvania 
says, are two rather spicy dispatches, one 
addressed to him by Secretary Stanton, 
and the other his reply. 

It was late in the war, probably in the 
Spring of 1864, that Governor Curtin went 
to Washington to see the Secretary of 
War, and, after giving him a harrowing 
description of the condition of Federal 
prisoners in Andersonville, he appealed 
to him to save them. 

Mr. Stanton said he did not see how he 
could do anything. "Why," said the 
Governor of Pennsylvania, "we have 
thousands of Confederate prisoners; let 
there be an exchange. ' ' With some heat, 
the Secretary asked if he meant to propose 
that we should take back a lot of diseased 
and enfeebled men, who could not return 
to the ranks, and give the Confederates 
an eciual number of healthy and well-fed 



men, who could at once recruit their 
armies. 

Governor Curtin said that was exactly 
what he was after. "Well, sir," said 
Stanton, ' ' a man who professes to be loyal 
to the Government ought to be ashamed 
to make such a treasonable suggestion." 
Curtin is an irascible gentlemen, and he 
left in a choleric condition. 

Immediately after he got home, he re- 
ceived from the Secretary a dispatch 
about as follows: "In the interests of 
loyalty to the Government and the speedy 
suppression of the rebellion, you should 
resign at once, and retire to private life, 
which you never should have left." Curtin 
replied to the Secretary : "In the inter- 
est of humanity, you should die and go 
to tile devil, where you ought to have gone 
long ago." This shows how courteous 
irreat men sometimes are 



The tallest soldier in the Union Army 
was Captain Van Buskirk, of Twenty- 
seventh Indiana Infantry. He was 6 feet 
io.\ inches high. 



The shortest soldier in the Union Army 
was a private in the One Hundred and 
Ninety-second Ohio Volunteers. He was 
24 years old and was 40 inches high. 



-45- 



Incidents of the Rebellion. 



At a certain battle of the late war, a 
Federal chaplain happened to get into 
the vicinity of a battery of artillery wliich 
was hotly engaged. The Confederate 
shells were plowing furrows about the 
guns, and the cannoneers were grimly 
and actively at work to answer shot for 
shot. The chaplain addressed himself to 
a sergeant, who was very efficient but at 
the same time rather profane, in the fol- 
lowing words : 

"My friend, if you go on this way, can 
you expect the support of Divine Provi- 
dence?" 

"Ain't expectin' it," .said the sergeant. 
"The Ninth New Jersey has been ordered 
to support this battery." 

* * * 

A northern general, famous as a fighter. 
was at a regimental re-union some time 
ago, and was expected to propose a toast 
to the regiment. He made a rambling 
but highly eulogistic speech, and con- 
cluded by saying : 

"Here's to the gallant One Hundred 
and Twenty-sixth New York, the last to 
reach the field and the first to leave it." 

He sat down amid shouts of laughter, 
and then seeing that he had made a mis- 
take, he undertook to rectify it, 

"Gentlemen," he said, "you must for- 
give my slip of the tongue ! The toast I 
wished to propose was, "Here's to the 
gallant One Hundred and Twenty-sixth 
New York, equal to none." 

There was another burst of laughter, 
and the general rose for the third time, 
l)ut his words were lost in the general 
merriment, and the toast was honored as 
lie had already proposed it. 

* * * 

Leaning against the clerk's desk at one 
of the leading hotels in Richmond was a 
well-known general whose name has 
heretofore always been synonymous with 
bravery in action on the side of the Lost 
Cause. Umioticed by him and ttjually 
unmindful of his presence there appruach- 
itl the desk a man who enjoys the rare 



distinction of having served in the Con- 
federate Army as a private. Running his 
finger down the open register that lay 
upon the desk, the newcomer halted a 
moment, and turning to a companion, 
exclaimed : '"Gen. Blank ; so he's here ; 
well, I should like to meet that fellow 
again. The last time I saw him was at 
the battle of \V , where he was run- 
ning like a turkey from the enemy !" 

Here the General turned, and the two 
men recognizing each other, the speaker 
held out his hand in greeting, and instant- 
aneously concluded, "And I was keeping 
him company !" 

* ♦ * 

When Butler was in command of New 
Orleans he made, it will be remembered, 
many arrests for all sorts of reasons ; and 
the oflTenders who were brought before 
him, no matter the grade of the offense — 
whether they w^ere guilty of having more 
spoons than were absolutely necessary in 
an averaged-sized household or had been 
talking imprudently — were generally e.\- 
iled to Ship Island, an exceedingly un- 
pleasant place of retreat at any season of 
the year. 

One eccentric old gentleman, who had 
been excessively indiscreet in his com- 
ments upon the current events, and who 
had been repeatedly but ineffectually 
warned to hold his tongue, was finally 
hauled before the general. It was shortly 
after the news of General Lee's victory 
at Fredericksburg had reached New Or- 
leans, and the rebels were very jubilant 
over it. 

"You have been expressing yourself in 
a very disloyal fashion, I understand, sir," 
said Butler, with an unusually sour twist 
of his business eye, "talking very outrag- 
eously and in a style calculated to pro- 
duce mischief." 

The old gentleman protested that he 
had said nothing particularly bad, and 
suggested that the irate general had been 
misinformed. But it was to no purpose. 
Butler wa.xeil more antl more indignant. 



46- 



aiui dfclared lie would send him to Ship 
Island. After much discussion, however, 
the sentence was revoked upon the old 
gentleman consenting to take the oath of 
allegiance, which he was very loath to do. 
The oath was administered in due form. 

"Well, General," queried the old gen- 
tleman, after he had been sworn, "I'm a 
loyal man now, ain't I !" 

"Certainly you are," said the General. 

"After this oath I'm as loyal in the eyes 
of the government as you or any one 
else?" 

"Unquestionably. ' ' 

"And as such I'm now at liberty to 
talk." 

"Of course; there can l)e no doubt of 
that." 

"Well, then, General, confidentially 
and to go no further, didn't old Bob Lee 

give us at Fredericksburg the other 

day?" 

* * -:<■ 

When General Pope was falling back 
before Lee's advance in the Virginia val- 
ley, his own soldiers thought his bulletins 
and orders somewhat strained in their 
rhetoric. At one of the numerous running 
engagements that marked that disastrous 
campaign, a private in one of the western 
regiments was mortally wounded by a 
shell. Seeing this man's condition, a 
chaplain knelt beside him, and, opening 
his Bible at random, read out Sampson's 
slaughter of the Philistines with the jaw- 
bone of an ass. He had not quite finish- 
ed, when, as the story runs, the poor fel- 
low interrupted the reading by saying : 

"Hold on, chaplain. Don't deceive a 
dying man. Isn't the name of John Pope 
signed to that?" 

» * ^:- 

A shell struck the wheel of a Federal 
field-piece toward the close of the engage- 
ment at Fair Oaks, shivering the spokes 
and dismantling the cannon. "Well, isn't 
it lucky that didn't happen before we used 
up our ammunition," said one of the ar- 
tillerists, as he crawled from beneath the 
gun. 



As the army was crossing South moun- 
tain the day before the battle of Antietam, 
General McClellan rode along the side of 
the moving column. Overtaking a favor- 
ite Zouave regiment, he exclaimed with 
liis natural honhontmic: 

"Well, and how is the old Fifth this 
evening?" 

"First-rate, general," replied one of the 
Zouaves. "But we'd be better off if we 
weren't living so much on supposition." 

"Supposition," said the general, in a 
puzzling tone. "What do you mean by 
that?" 

"It's easily explained, sir. You see we 
expected to get our rations yesterday, but 
as we didn't, we're living on the suppo- 
sition that we did." 

"Ah! I understand; you shall have your 
rations, to-night." replied the general, 
putting spurs to his horse to escape the 
cheers of the regiment. And he kept his 
promise. 

* * * 

A soldier who was in the habit of be- 
coming intoxicated, was remonstrated 
with by the colonel of his regiment ; the 
conversation which took place was some- 
thing like this : — 

"You are a remarkably clean man, sir." 

"Thank you, colonel." 

"But, sir, you have bad habits." 

"I am sorry for that, colonel." 

"You drink, sir." 

"I am sorry for that." 

"Oh, I know you are sorry, Init why 
don't you drink like me." 

"Colonel, I couldn't do it, it woukl kill 
me." 

* ♦ * 

A Confederate officer relates that at the 
battle of Fort Donelson, it was decided, 
after a hot fight, to withdraw from the 
fort. Upon looking around for Ccesar, 
his cook, he was nowhere to be seen. 
Shortly after, he discovered the man was 
inside the log on which he was standing. 

"Come out of there!" commanded the 
officer 

"Can't do it !" he shouted in reply. 

"But you must. The fight is all over." 



^ -47 



"But I can't — dar's fo' vvliite'ineii in clis 
log." 

This the officer found to be a fact. They 
crawfished out, one after the other, and 
finally the darky appeared. The officer 
was about to open on him, l)ut Ctesar pro- 
tested : 

"Doan' say one word ! Dis am de fust 
time I ebber got ahead of a white man, 
an' its gwine to be de werry last! De 
nex' fout we have, I'se gwine to let de 
white man have de hull log to hisself, an' 
I'll look for a hole in de ground !" 

* -;<- * 

An anecdote illustrating the contrast 
between the light-hearted pluck of the 
Southern soldier and the patriotic fervor 
— almost religious — of the Northern pri- 
vate, was recently told by a Southern 
officer. It was after the battle of Cedar 
Mountain, and two soldiers, one of the 
North, the other of the South, lay side by 
side, wounded, on the battle-field. 

Before the ambulance came up to take 
them to more comfortable quarters, the 
lad in gray turned to the boy in blue and 
said in a quizzical tone : 

"What are you fightin' fur?" 

"The old flag!" was the reply. 

"Sho'l thar's no use o' doin' that; we 
don't want it," 

* -x- * 

As a regiment was on the march to 
Gettysburg, some of the soldiers stepped 
out of the ranks and "confiscated" a cou- 
ple of geese, and at the suggestion of an 
ingenious fellow and a natural "bummer," 
one of the drummers unheaded his instru- 
ment and put the captured birds in the 
drum. Shortly afterward the colonel came 
along, and noticing the boy shirked his 
usual drum whacks, rt)de up to him and 
said : 

"Why don't you tieat that drum?" 

"Colonel," said the startled musician, 
"I want to speak to you." 

The colonel drew still closer to him, 
and bending down his head, said "Well, 
what have you to say?" 

The drummer whispered "Colonel. I've 
got a couple of geese in here." 



The colonel straightened upand gravely 
said, "Well, if you're sick and can't play, 
you needn't," and then rode on. 

It is needless to add that the colonel 
had roast goose that night. 
■::■ -;:• * 

There were 2047 Union regiments of all 
l)ranches of service. Of these, 1696 were 
infantry, 272 regiments and 2 companies 
of cavalry, and 78 regiments and 2 bat- 
teries of artillery, or 936 batteries. 



There were 2261 battles and engage- 
ments of all kinds on land during the 
war. 

Among the wounded who arrived in 
Louisville, after the battle of Murfrees- 
boro, was Joseph Rock, a private in com- 
pany B, Twenty-third Kentucky, aged 
eighteen years, who was in the thickest 
of the fight. He was shot in the right 
breast, a minie ball striking the buckle of 
his suspenders, driving it through a por- 
tion of the lungs, and lodging under the 
skin in his back. The surgeon cut through 
the skin and took out the ball and buckle, 
which were fastened together. Besides 
this, he had three balls to pass through 
the leg of his pants, and the stock of his 
gun was shivered while taking aim. 



At Cold Harbor a shell e.xploded in an 
Ohio regiment advancing against a bat- 
tery, and si.xteen men were wiped out in 
an instant. Of these nine were blown t<.) 
fragments and the others horribly muti- 
lated The battery was firing twenty to 
thirty shells per minute, and this was the 
work of a single one. One discharge of 
grape in the same fight killed fourteen 
men in a Michigan regiment, and a New 
\'ork regiment that went in with seven 
Inmdred and three men in line came out 
with two hundred and sixty. On one acre 
of ground tlie burial party found over 
seven hundred dead men. In a strip of 
woods where the battle lines had clashed, 
more than two thousand dead were found 
in a space not wider than a square in a 
city, and no more than three times as long. 

K- » » 



48- 



An Insli siilclirr. wlio jiiidcd hiinsflf 
upon his bravery, said lie had fouglit in 
the battle of lUill Run. When asked if 
he had retreated and made good his es- 
cape, as others did on that famous occa- 
sion, he replied: "Bejabers, those that 
didn't run are there yit," 

* -:;■ -.i 

A brii^ht little live year old boy was vis- 
iting his father, who belonged to a New 
^'ork regiment, in camp. 

One day, as he was playing before his 
father's tt;nt, an officer approached ; he 
was accustomed to being noticed, as a 
child in camp was a great luxury, but this 
soldier he evidently feared, and stepped 
inside the tent. 

"Come here, my little man," said the 
officer who addressed him. 

The discerning child replied, "I don't 
want to ; you're a doctor, I know you're 
a doctor." 

"Vou are mistaken; come here ; 1 am 
not a doctor." 

But the little fellow stuck to his convic- 
tions and only put his head out of the 
tent far enough to say ; "Yes, you are a 
doctor, too ; I know you're a doctor, for 
I can smell the medicine on your breath." 

And during the remainder of that ofifi- 
t er's term of service he never received 

anv other name. 

* * * 

It was at the battle of Chancellorsville 
that a cannon ball carried off a soldier's 
leg. 

"Carry me to the rear! " he cried, to a 
tall Irish companion who had been fight- 
ing at his side — "My leg's shot off!" 

The comrade caught the wounded sol- 
dier up, and as he was about to put him 
across his shoulder, anotlier cannon ball 
carried away the poor fellow's head. His 
friend, however, in the confusion, did not 
notice this, but proceeded with his bur- 
den toward the rear. 

"What are you carrying that tiling for?" 
cried an officer. 

"Thing !' returned he. "It's a man wid 
his leg shot off." 

"Why, he hasn't any head !" cried the 
ijfticer. 



Tile soldier looked at his IcKid, and for 
the first time saw that what the officer 
said was true. Throwing down the body 
he thundered out : 

"Confound him ! lie tould me it was his 
leg." 

* * * 

The First Minnesota Infantry sustained 
the greatest loss of Union commands, in 
proportion to numbers engaged, in any 
one day's battle. At Gettysburg, July, 
1S63, the command lost 50 killed and 174 
wounded, of the 263 officers and men en- 
gaged. 

-i * -Ir 

The Twenty-sixth North Carolina In- 
fantry, Pettigrew's Brigade, Heth's Divi- 
sion, took into battle at Gettysburg 800 
officers and men, and lost in killed, 86; 
wounded, 502 ; missing, 120 ; total loss in 
one battle, 70S ; leaving but 92 men fit 
for duty. In one company, 84 strong, 
every man and officer was hit, and the 
orderly sergeant, who made out the list, 
did it with a bullet through each leg. 
This is, by far, the largest regimental loss 
on either side during the war. 

* -:;- * 

The number of men in the United States 
armies, from 1861 to 1865, was 2,859,132. 

The number of colored troops in the 
service was 186,017. 

The number of casualties in the volun- 
teer and regular armies during the rebel- 
lion, was 61,362 killed in battle; 34,727 
died of wounds ; 183,287 died of disease ; 
making the total deaths, 278,386. Of this 
number, fully 100,000 are buried in un- 
known graves. In the Fredericksburg 
National Cemetery are buried 15,068 de- 
fenders of the Union, of which number 
12,601 are marked "Unknown." These 
bodies were gathered from various battle- 
fields in \'irginia. 

The total number of desertions fron\ tlie 
Union army was 199,105. 

The number of U. S. soldiers captured 
was 212,608. 

The number of U.S. soldiers who died 
as prisoners of war was 29,725. 

There were 301 suicides, and 121 were 
executed. 



es, ('m Quiltv! 



i^ "Yes, I'm y;uilty, " the prisdn'er said. 
As h(j wiped his eyes and bowed his head. 
"Guilty of all the crimes you name ; 
But this yere lad is not to blame. 
'Twas I alone who raised the row, 
And, Judge, if you please, I'll tell yei'Iiow. 
You See, this boj'' is pale and slim ; 
We ( alls him saint — his name is Tim — 
He's like a preacher in his ways — 
He never drinks, or swears, or plays, 
But kinder sighs and weeps all day — 
'Twould break your heart to hear him 

pra}-. 
Why, sir, many and many a night. 
When grub was scarce and I was tight. 
No food, no fire, no light to see, 
I've seen that boy in darkness kneel, 
And pray such words as cuts like steel ; 
Which somehow warmed and lit the room 
And sorter chased away the gloom. 
.Smile if you must, but facts are lacts, 
And deeds are deeds, and acts are acts ; 
And though I'm black as sin can be, 
His prayers have done a heap for me, 
And, makes me think that God, perhaps. 
Sent him on earth to save us chaps. 
This man what squealed and pulled us in, 
He keeps a place called Fiddler's Inn, 
Where ftikes, and snides, and lawless 

scamps 
Cennivcand i>Iut witli thieves and trami)s. 
Well, Tim and me wo didn't know 
Just what to do cr where to go. 
And so wc stayed with him last niglu. 
And this ij how we had the fight : 
They wanted Tim to take a drink, 
But he refused as youmaj' tliink. 
And told them howjhe flowing l-)owl 
( ontained the fire that killed the soul. 
'Drink! Drink I' tliey cv\'-i], tliis fo.nn- 

ing beer, 
'Twill make you strong and -^ive vmi 

cheer ; 



Let preachers groan a 
Ikit give us the flowing gin ! 
Then Tim knelt down beside his cliiur, .. , 
And offered up his little prayer : j^ 

Help me, dear Lord,' the child beg;^. ''r 
As down his cheeks the bfg tears ral 
To keep the pledge I gave to you, ' 
And make me strong, and good, an 
I've done my best to do what's 
But Lord, I'm sad and weak to 
Father, mother, oh, plead f o^ n" 
Tell Christ I long with you to bi^ 
'Get up, you brat, don't pray 'roui 
The landlord yelled with rage anu 
Then, like a brute, he hit .the lad, , 
Which made my blood just iViling'r 
I guess I must uv hurt his Jiead, 
For I struck hard for the man that's d. 
No, he hain't no folks nor friends but n 
His dad was killed in sixty-three, 
Shot at the front, where bursting shell 
And cannon sang their song of hell. 
And muskets hissed with fiery breath, 
As brave men fell to their tune of deaths? 
I promised his father before he died, . 
As the life blood rushed from his wourfd 

ed side, , ; : 

And it filled the soldier'^S jbeaft tvitlvjpyj 
That I'd protect his darlin'g boy. 
I simply did r.s his father would, 
And helped the weak, as all men should. 
\'es, I knocked him down and blackened 

his eye. 
And used l-im rough, I'll not dviiy ; 
But think cf it. Judge, a chap like l.im 
Striking the likes of little Tim. 
If I did wrong, send me below, 
I'ut spare the son oi comrade Jo^ — 
^'oU forgive liini ; and me? Oh, no'! 
A fact! God bless you? Come. Titii, 

let's go." 



A Stomach to Fit the Ration. 



< . in ill Li . , of the Confederate army, 
soeuig (..n(; of his men eating unripe per- 
simmons, said: " My man, you shouldn't 

t . '■ ■li.w,- Thev'ri- not lit io i-it v I," 



"1 know It, Cimeral," replie 
dier. "I'm not eatin' them liekase iV 
are good, but bekase I.want ta draw 



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"LIBRftRY of" CONGRESS 



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